“When I was young, my guidance counselor told me if I didn’t get a good job I’d get pulled into drugs, prostitution, gambling, or gang wars. I went into professional skidding. It’s a very good job, but all of that other shit happens anyway.”

  The Frozen Lady was in an old converted warehouse on level 4. Squid Lannahan loved his industrial chic, and I’m sure he also liked the unassuming exterior of his club for multiple reasons. If it weren’t for a small but bright neon sign over the entrance and the hint of pounding bass vibrating the outer walls you could easily miss the building’s real purpose as one of the most popular night clubs in the area. Or rather, the night club was the front.

  I, still wearing my bandana and concealing as much of my stop sign hair under my hood as I could, was still in my persona as Red, the elusive and no doubt mysterious street skidder. I didn’t think much of my chances if any cop or lowlife saw my face. I was always worried someone would make the connection between Red and Jett. I’ve never been much on subtlety, so I opted to hide in plain sight, and it seemed to be working. Wally had even found a news article once, suggesting that Red was a “copycat” of “disgraced former professional skidder, Jett Fulgen.” I wasn’t sure about “disgraced”—being a connoisseur of self-loathing I at least preferred accuracy—but otherwise it was funny as hell.

  So I was known as ‘Red’ even to the denizens of The Frozen Lady, and most accepted the fact that I dressed like a robber as part of my eccentricity and mystique. So when I approached the back door the beefy bouncer/mob enforcer nodded and let me in without so much as a word.

  He did have a couple of words after I stepped through the door though. “Boss wants to see you. Elevator at the end of the hall.”

  “I know where it is.” No problem. Squid and I went way back, and he had asked me to come early, so this wasn’t a surprise. So the sudden pounding of my heart was just a reflexive reaction, one I always had to any variant of “We need to talk.” Nothing more.

  There was another tough waiting on the elevator. Right. An escort. Still no biggie.

  “Remove the mask, Mr. Fulgen,” this tough said after the door shut and we began to ascend.

  Well, shit.

  Squid knew my real identity, of course, and it made sense that a couple in his inner circle would also need to know. So again, I wasn’t alarmed as I stepped off the elevator and straight into the lavish office of William ‘Squid’ Lanahan’s penthouse.

  The man himself was seated at his desk, a case of skid competition trophies displayed prominently behind him. Light but rhythmic jazz played on an antique turntable. Squid himself looked much the same as when he’d been my manager in the pros, though more sharply dressed, with rings on his fingers and a gold chain around his neck. He was a heavyset black man, his white hair pulled back into the dreadlocks that earned him his nickname. Tattoos adorned his hands, and multiple scars adorned his face. But his mouth split in a perfect, friendly grin at the sight of me.

  “Jett, my boy!” he boomed, rising at my entrance. “Good to see ya again!” He extended his hand and we shook heartily. He motioned for me to sit across from him, which I did. “Today is… Hold on, am I thinking right? Your big day?”

  “Yeah, it’s my birthday. I’m surprised you remembered.” Damn. When was Squid’s birthday? Half the time I forgot when Wally’s was.

  “Surprised? Still? Ha ha, you know how I operate! Well, best wishes to you, boy. How have things been?” His smile never left his mouth or his eyes, but I could also sense him probing me. This was just a catching-up visit. Wasn’t it?

  “Uh, not so great. I had something kickass lined up. Standup comedy. I blew it.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame!” He laughed. “I can totally see that one working for ya too, boy! You’re the biggest smartass I ever met!”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “I uh, flamed out, Squid. Showed up too late and got canned.”

  “Mmm, seems to be a pattern for you lately. And that’s why you’re back here, of course. Still need to pay the bills.”

  “Yeah.” I puffed my cheeks. “You know me well.”

  “That I do.” Squid smirked, but he studied me for a moment before he continued. I could almost imagine my psyche being scanned. “In fact, I know you well enough to guess you aren’t just going through financial hard times. How are you holding up these past couple of years, boy? How are you really holding up? Are you still blaming yourself?”

  I felt a lump in my throat, and my heart thrashed. So much anger. So much blood. He’d just smiled at me from the hospital bed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  Squid opened his mouth as if to press further. Then he cleared his throat, adjusted himself in his seat, and clasped his hands before him. “Anyway Jett, I want to continue to help you. I really do. However, I still have a business to run, so we need to discuss our current arrangement.”

  I heard a noise and glanced over my shoulder. The tough from the elevator was now standing in front of it, hands clasped behind him. His posture wasn’t overtly threatening, but he was very much blocking the door.

  I felt myself starting to sweat. “Squid? What do you mean?”

  “Relax, boy. I have no problem with ‘Red’ participating in my sporting events. I welcome you wholeheartedly, and you know that. But this late notice.” He shook his head. “It’s just not sustainable. Do you know, Jett, what I value most?”

  That was no riddle. Or at least, not one I hadn’t heard before. Manager Squid had started many a speech with that question, and I doubted Kingpin Squid had changed that much. “Relationships,” I said.

  “That’s right. And even in this extralegal business I now find myself in, where I have to bribe police and occasionally rap a knuckle so I can keep patronizing the sport I love, relationships are important. More so, even. That includes my most loyal customers and VIPs, even though some of them are scum. Their bar tabs and bets keep my doors open.”

  This was going in an all too familiar and uncomfortable direction.

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  He held up three fingers. “Three times you’ve joined my races, and each time it was a last minute substitution. The first race was an upset, but nobody pointed fingers. The second caused some tempers to flare. This time,” he shook his head, “this time it’s going to do damage. You see what it looks like, don’t you?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “It looks like I’m a ringer.”

  “Exactly. And someone’s eventually going to get wind that you’ve visited me personally, if they haven’t already. I’m going to lose trust tonight, Jett. That’s a currency I value far more than money.”

  Panic scurried around inside of me like a caged animal. My vision went dark around the edges. “Then I don’t have to race! Geez, Squid! I’ll probably get evicted but that’s my problem! You don’t have to make it yours!”

  Squid held his hands up. “Hold on, I’m not finished. I’m not gonna see you or your poor friend on the street. You’re already on the lineup, Jett. My customers have already seen it. If I pulled you now it’d look even worse. So this is what we’re gonna do.

  “First off, I’m gonna announce that you will regularly appear on the lineup from now on. If anyone thinks I’ve been playing them this won’t change their minds, but they’ll assume I’ve come to my senses and dropped the charade.”

  “Ah.” I grimaced. “Regularly. Right.”

  “I know you don’t like being regimented, Jett, but I managed your schedule a lot more tightly back in the pros. I don’t think this is too much.”

  “That’s not exactly it. It’s hard to explain.” I took a moment, trying to find the right words. “Maybe I’m a hypocrite. I play tag with cops in my free time. And I don’t judge you, Squid. It just rubs me the wrong way. I know you run the cleanest dirthole in a ten-cell radius, and you don’t tolerate shenanigans on your property besides the races themselves. But the evil shit some of the folks downstairs probably get up to outside this place? Maybe it’s my dad’s scruples coming out. Thinking that I’m racing for their entertainment and their enrichment just…”

  “Still less corrupt than the pros,” Squid said wryly.

  I nodded emphatically. “You got me there. I just… I kind of want my income to be legitimate, at least. I flirt with disaster enough as it is. So I wanted to keep this as a last resort. One that I eventually won’t have to resort to.”

  “Ahh. I can respect that. That’s why you always wait ‘til the last minute to call me? One of the reasons, anyway?”

  That perceptive bastard. Small wonder he dealt in relationships when he could read people like a book. Not for the first time I wondered why, if he understood people so well, he still had a soft spot for me.

  Squid took my silence for the confirmation it was. “Let’s figure this out then.” He picked up a pen and began to jot down some notes. “Now, your rent is due what, first of the month?”

  “That’s right.”

  “That lines up with both of your previous races. So here’s what we’re gonna do from now on. Your name will be on the lineup the last Saturday of every month. If you want or need more races, I will happily add you with at least forty-eight hours’ notice. Understand?”

  “Yes, Dad.” He raised an eyebrow, and I checked myself. “Damn it. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Your mouth still gets a mind of its own when you’re stressed, I see. I don’t enjoy putting the squeeze on you either, Jett, but we need a way forward that works.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about me. But work on that tongue of yours. I’m gonna have to introduce you to some real touchy bastards if you come on as a regular. Especially if you’re winning. You’ll need to conduct yourself like I taught you to back in the pros.”

  “Can’t wait. I mean, I will.”

  “Anyway, I’m going to make this part of an overly cheerful announcement to the VIP room when we’re done here. At least once a month, expect to see Red back in the race. In the meantime, if you land a ‘legitimate’ job you’re happy with, you are free to drop from the lineup. With forty-eight hours’ notice. If it really works out and you decide you’re done with your life of crime, I will not automatically schedule you anymore and I will wish you the speed of the Shones. Sound good?”

  It sounded kickass, actually. Fair and reasonable as hell. It was exactly what I needed.

  I hated it.

  “Sounds great.”

  “Now for the second part.” He then slid back and rummaged around in a desk drawer. A moment later he withdrew two very fancy looking liquor bottles. “Goldsilver Reserve, from my personal collection. I told you tonight was going to do some damage.” He tapped one of the bottles. “This is damage control. Five hundred GCreds a bottle. The VIPs and I are going to toast our ‘relationships.’”

  Five hundred GCreds. That was fifty thousand minari. It was more money than I’d seen all at once in years.

  “Shit, Squid. You could have almost paid my rent yourself for that much.” I felt awful. He was doing this just to make up for my screw-up?

  “Relax, boy. You think this is the first time I’ve had to smooth over a rough spot with a gift like this? This is normal, run-of-the-mill ass kissing in this business. They’re due for a little gesture anyway, a reminder that Squid treats them right. The timing couldn’t be better. Finally, this,” he tapped the other bottle, “is part three.”

  “I don’t follow. You’re going to get them drunk and then… drunker?”

  Squid flashed an exaggerated grin. “Not me. If you finish in the top three, you are going to buy the VIPs this bottle out of your winnings. The purses are generous. You’ll be good for it. Then you’ll really be off to a fresh start with the clientele.”

  That made perfect sense. The rich assholes would have Squid’s apology and mine in liquid form, and they were bound to be in a better mood after that. Hell, they might even look forward to me racing again.

  I hated it.

  “Ok.”

  “Ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “One last thing. After the race, especially if you win, I want you to take off the bandana.”

  “But…”

  “You can keep it when you’re outside, by all means. Half the other racers do it too, with masks or tinted face shields or whatnot. But these people aren’t gonna keep letting a masked bandit take their money, get me? Relationships, boy. They’ll figure out who you are eventually anyway, so you might as well make the first move. And they won’t bust you, even out of spite. Call it honor among thieves if you want. Or just keep in mind you’ll know their names and faces too, and they have more to lose.”

  I groaned. The mask wasn’t just to avoid a cop knocking on my door with a warrant. It was a barrier between the “good guy” I sometimes pretended to be and Red, the lawbreaker. Through gritted teeth I finally said, “Ok, I’ll do it.”

  “All right. Let’s review our deal. If you would?”

  I rolled my eyes, but as always, he knew me. If I repeated it back it would help both of us make sure I remembered. Still, I couldn’t keep a hint of a whiny schoolchild reciting in front of the class out of my voice. “I’ll race the last Saturday of every month. Forty-eight hours’ notice. If I do good I’ll buy booze for a pack of slimeballs so they’ll like me. The mask comes off.”

  “Good enough. Happy birthday, boy. I hope things improve for you from here.”

  He stood, and I took my cue to follow. The tough by the elevator quickly stood aside and gestured at the door as if it were a prize I’d just won. “Thanks, Squid,” I said. “I mean it. You’re better to me than I deserve.”

  Squid patted me on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Jett. Always have been, and I’ve always known it. You need to give yourself more credit. Oh, uh, when you get down there, watch out for Troy Maddox. The big guy, engineer. He’s been extra unhinged lately. I might have to ban him if he keeps it up.”

  “Will do.” I knew the one; he’d been at my last race. I’d try not to piss him off too much. Unless he said or did something really mock-worthy, of course.

  “And…” Squid wrung his hands together, actually looking embarrassed, and then he touched the side of his head as if it were aching. “Keep an eye on the new girl. You’ll know when you see her. She’s a little young for this. I’m not quite sure why I let her race at all.”

  “Watch out for the big guy and the little girl. Got it.”

  Easy. Squid favored me with a warm smile, and I smiled back. Maybe things would be all right after all.

  "It has been said, never bring a knife to a gunfight, but what happens when you bring a gun to a sword fight?"

  Ozzy Irman had always considered himself something of an explorer. Never in all of his wildest dreams however did he think he'd end up in another world. Hell, he still hadn't made it to Yellowstone.

  But when the unthinkable happens, and he finds himself face down cheeks up in a swamp full of monsters he knows something has gone terribly wrong with life. Armed with nothing save his rapidly fraying wits and *cough* an arsenal of magical firearms *cough* he must eke out a place for himself in a world full of magic, corruption, and Gods.

  ?? Great for readers who enjoyed He Who Fights With Monsters, Vigil's Wrath, The Ten Realms Series, and other isekai/flintlock fantasy stories.