We both turned our heads when Claude forcefully cleared his throat. He glared at us through one of the archways in the divider wall like a judge about to sentence a criminal.
“Why don’t you shove a fecking cookie up your nose, Chitah?”
It wasn’t as if Hunter was anywhere near us or within earshot, but Claude couldn’t help reacting to emotional scents.
With that, I stood and briefly touched the onyx ring on Christian’s finger. He centered his eyes on my ruby necklace, and it felt as though we were claiming each other with that quiet exchange.
I stretched away. “If you go out, behave yourself, Mr. Poe.”
“Always do, Precious. Always do.”
Chapter 2
When I pulled my truck into my father’s driveway, the trailer porch light switched on. I honked my horn, a sound he was familiar with since this was his old truck. It was either that or risk him charging outside with a shotgun pointed at me.
Crush leaned on the railing while I parked. “You got mud on your truck.”
I slammed the door and rounded the front. “It’s old, like you. It’s gonna get dirty.”
Crush chuckled. “Don’t I know it.”
When I reached the top of the steps, he wrapped me up in a bear hug.
“I missed you, Cookie.”
I squeezed him hard and let go. “It’s barely been a week.”
He folded his arms over the Harley logo on his tattered, oil-stained T-shirt. “You’re not still wound up about that little errand, are you?”
Crush still didn’t think giving me a necklace with a hidden camera on my last mission had been a big deal even though that little stunt could have gotten him killed or blown my cover.
Walking past him, I glared. “The next time Viktor asks you for a little favor, say no.” Once inside the small trailer, I waited by the round kitchen table on my left and stared at an empty TV dinner tray. Nothing left but a few brownie crumbs, chicken bones, and a puddle of grease. “Tell me you’re not back to eating that crap.”
“I’m too damn tired to cook when I get home. Fruit spoils in a day. That shit will last in my freezer for thirty years.” He lifted the plastic tray and dropped it into the trash. “Quit judging my life.”
I pulled out a vinyl chair and sat. “You could at least buy one of those roasted chickens. They have premade dinners at the grocery store. Containers filled with salad, beans, soups—healthy stuff.”
“I had chicken tonight. That’s healthy.”
“You do realize that’s nothing but grease and sugar.”
“Isn’t that what fathers are made of?”
“You’re practically pickled.”
He rummaged around in a drawer. “Don’t give me that sass.”
There was no point in trying to change his bad habits, but I kept hoping that maybe one day he would listen.
I stared at the muted television in the living room and recognizedThe Honeymoonersplaying. Crush liked watching old shows—especially comedies. It seemed like just yesterday I was living here. Everything was the same, and yet so much time had passed. Of all the enemies I’d fought over the years, time was the most elusive and cruel. I twirled a large skull ring in the center of the table before cleaning off the motor oil with a paper napkin.
Crush returned to the table with two bottles of orange soda. “Feel free to tell me all about your last assignment. The whole damn city knows about it now. Well, they don’t know about you specifically, but I might have bragged to one or two of my buddies.”
The ring swallowed up my finger. “You can’t talk about my job to anyone, not even people you trust.”
After sipping his bubbly drink, he set down the bottle and pulled the elastic band out of his grey goatee. “You looking for a place to crash for a while? Trouble in paradise?”
I sat back. “Don’t look so hopeful. No, everything’s fine with Christian.”
