Jonah laughed, the sound harsh, and Madi seemed to take that as answer enough.
“Back to the gun.” Madigan narrowed his eyes. “In return, you’ll owe me a favor when I need it.”
“Something equivalent. Don’t get fucking greedy.”
Madi threw his head back, his laughter loud in the cavernous apartment. “When have I ever been greedy?” He slunk around Jonah and vanished, returning with a heavy black case he set at Jonah’s feet. “Call with any questions or if you need a practice run beforehand. Jonah—” He leaned against the wall, voice dropping suggestively as Jonah picked up the case. “You could stay.” He ticked his chin toward the bedroom. “He’d be into it. I would, too. You look like you’ve got some steam to blow off.”
A hot coal burned in Jonah’s stomach, and when Madigan fiddled with the drawstring on his pants, the heat spread through his groin, his limbs. It was reflexive, though. The stimulus was all wrong. He didn’t have any desire to go back to all of that. He and Madigan were better as they were now and, if he was honest, Madigan had never been exactly what he wanted. While Jonah might not have the first clue what he truly wanted, it was easy to spot the things he didn’t—even if he willingly deluded himself sometimes.
But not tonight.
“I’ll message you when I’m finished.” He stepped past Madigan and headed for the door without waiting for a reply.
* * *
Wired wasin the warehouse district, a slummer’s neon-lit playground with a line that stretched along its artfully blow-torched corrugated metal siding. The only reason Jonah had chosen it as a haunt was because he knew one of the owners, never had to deal with the line or cover charge, and never waited long for a drink. He liked the people watching, too. The deals being made, the sexual politics taking place on the dance floor, at the bar, and in the hallways. Seeing which low-level crime boss du jour had claimed the VIP area, like they weren’t in danger of being ousted next week or next month.
If the city was one giant web of nefarious dealings, Wired was one of the central spokes, capable of sending ripples outward.
It was also a good spot to get laid.
Jonah found a slice of real estate at the bar and surveyed the crowd while sipping the vodka Laura delivered to him. It didn’t hold a candle to Madi’s, sadly.
“You still working at the wharf?” She held up a lemon wedge in offering, then tossed it back in the garnish container when Jonah shook his head.
“Lost that job. Now I’m doing deliveries for a meat company.” Jonah was a perpetual gig worker to most who knew him and, apparently, a shitty one considering how often he “lost” his job or moved on to the next. But it was an easy cover. No paper trails. No way to be tracked.
Laura wrinkled her nose. “Bet that’ll suck in the summer.”
Jonah’s mouth hooked up in a smile. “It might. Depends on if I’m still there by then.”
“Ditto.” Laura glanced over the crowd with a sigh, and Jonah’s smile turned into a laugh.
“You’ve been threatening to leave since I’ve been coming here.”
“I know. I’m a sucker.” She reached out and patted his arm. “Glad to see you again, though. I was wondering where you’d been.”
“Busy. Getting fired. Delivering meat.” Jonah knocked back another swallow and set the glass down. “You haven’t seen Cas here, have you?”
Laura scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Not in a really, really long time. I’ll be back in a few.” With a wink, she hurried downbar to a patron waving a bunch of bills.
Jonah didn’t wait. He finished off his drink, the liquor feathering a pleasant heaviness through his veins, then wove through the crowd toward the long hall that led to the restrooms. A decade ago, people had fucked in the stalls. These days, few bothered to go that far. The hallway was full of intertwined couples and hopefuls standing with their backs pressed against the velvet-lined wall in wait.
“Hey.”
Jonah slowed as thin fingers brushed lightly over his forearm. His cursory assessment revealed a slender blond wearing a see-through nylon shirt that loosely qualified as retro. He had a bunch of metal in his ears and one of those bull rings through his nose that always made Jonah wince internally. But it also assured him he wasn’t messing with one of his kind. No hired killer would risk that sort of easily-exploitable accessory. Not a good one, anyway. This guy wasn’t Jonah’s type either, but underneath all the eyeliner, he was attractive.
The guy ran his hand up Jonah’s arm and squeezed his bicep with a smile. “I’m Pierce.”
Jonah wondered if that was a joke. “Dick.”
Pierce bit his lower lip and laughed. “Really?”
“You can call me Richard if it’ll make you feel better.”
“No, no. I love Dick. Dick is great.” Pierce grinned and dropped his hand from Jonah’s bicep to let it run up his inner thigh, then leaned in, skimming the tip of his nose along the side of Jonah’s neck. Jonah let out a quiet exhale. Fuck, he hadn’t had human contact like this in weeks.
Pierce’s breath came hot in his ear. “Do you want to go somewhere else so I can get better acquainted with it?”
