“You accidentally put a knife against the car.”
Tyler shifted.
“I was messing around.”
“And accidentally dragged it from the fender across the door.”
“It slipped.”
Marcus nodded once.
“Good.”
Tyler frowned.
“What?”
“Keep talking.”
The teenager's eyes narrowed.
Marcus looked toward the girl.
Her phone remained raised slightly.
Then toward the Lamborghini.
Two exterior vehicle cameras had activated automatically when the proximity sensors detected movement.
One near the windshield.
One beneath the side mirror.
The car's aftermarket security system had been upgraded by the consignor after a previous vandalism threat.
Marcus had personally tested it the previous night.
The system had already recorded everything.
Tyler did not know.
Marcus preferred that.
Tyler stepped forward.
“You act like you're better than everybody.”
Marcus's expression cooled.
“No.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“You always show up at HOA meetings with documents and lawyers and stuff.”
“Because your mother sends me fines.”
“She sends everybody fines.”
“That may be the most honest thing you've said.”
Tyler's face flushed.
“People like you move in here and think money means rules don't apply.”
Marcus stared.
“People like me.”
Tyler hesitated.
Marcus watched his eyes.
Then Tyler said:
“Business owners.”
Marcus smiled without humor.
“Nice recovery.”
“I meant rich guys.”
“You don't know how much money I have.”
“Look at the car.”
Marcus glanced toward the Lamborghini.
“Still not mine.”
Tyler froze.
“What?”
Marcus looked back.
“I said it isn't mine.”
That bothered the boy.
He had expected Marcus to defend ownership.
“Then why is it here?”
“Business.”
Tyler immediately brightened.
“Exactly.”
Marcus sighed.
“You're not very good at listening.”
Tyler stepped closer.
“You just admitted you run the dealership here.”
“No.”
“I admitted the dealership owns the vehicle.”
The distinction floated past him.
Tyler looked toward the neighbors gathering near driveways.
His posture changed.
Audience.
Marcus recognized the instinct.
Brenda had it too.
Tyler spoke louder.
“My mom told you not to park commercial vehicles here.”
Marcus kept his voice normal.
“Your mother's notice was withdrawn.”
“She runs the HOA.”
“She chairs a board.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Tyler threw one hand up.
“This neighborhood is sick of you acting like you own everything.”
Marcus almost laughed.
He pointed toward his house.
“I own this.”
Several neighbors smiled.
Tyler noticed.
Humiliation entered.
Dangerous emotion in teenagers.
His shoulders squared.
“You think that's funny?”
“No.”
“Everybody thinks you're so cool because you drive these stupid cars.”
Marcus looked at the scratch again.
There it was.
Not HOA policy.
Not commercial use.
Status.
Maybe resentment.
Maybe jealousy.
Maybe something else.
Marcus said:
“Tyler, go home.”
“No.”
“Then stand on the sidewalk.”
“No.”
Marcus's patience thinned.
“Get off my property.”
Tyler leaned closer.
“What are you going to do?”
Marcus felt the anger rise.