I jutted my chin forward, letting him get a good look at me. To see I wasn’t the kind of man to play a game of “fuck around and find out” with. “If you’re going to be in the grand theft auto business, you should at least know your cars. It’s an MC20 Cielo. Grigio incognito is the color. You like it?”

The kid’s blue eyes flicked to my car and back to me. A touch of fear finally cut across his face. About damn time.

“Grigio incognito. That’s asshole talk for solid gray, by the way.” I winked. “I’m trying to give you kids a chance to walk away here.” As the lookout drew my eyes, I lowered the keys to my side.

“Come on, let’s just go,” the lookout said, elbowing the Boy Scout.

Knife returned to his pocket, he flipped me the bird. “You’re lucky, man.”

“Mm-hmm.” The sound buzzed low from my mouth as I shook my head.

The Boy Scout and the other teen took off, leaving only their lookout behind. He quietly stared at me. There was something oddly familiar about him.

Please tell me you’re not having a change of heart after being the voice of reason. “Go.” I pocketed my keys, and he blinked twice, then finally moved. Of course, he opted to bump into me on the way out. I stood there and took it since I didn’t want to hurt him.

Once the exit door was closed, and I was finally alone, I returned to my car, remembering I had another mission to complete. Officially end things with Leah.

Sitting behind the wheel, I sent her another text.

Me: You sure you don’t want to talk in person?

Leah: I’ve already moved on. Nothing to say.

Damn. Okay. I let go of a deep breath, then realized . . .

My left pocket was light. My wallet was missing.

You got the drop on me.

I was mildly impressed for a few seconds until I remembered something important. Something important to me was now gone.

I called Hudson, not wanting to waste any time. I needed to get the kid’s name and location before it was too late.

“Hey, you good?” he answered after a few rings.

“Just tell me you broke it off with Leah.” Izzy. Of course I was on speakerphone. She must’ve joined Hudson at the office after I left. “How you felt about my ex is how I feel about her.”

“Sorry, I, uh . . . you know I can never keep anything from her,” Hudson was quick to remind me.

I was well aware. “It’s over.” I thought back to that kid, whose face I’d now never forget. “And someone stole my wallet.”

I told them how my need to intervene in a not-my-problem situation had just become my problem.