“Random guys visit you at two a.m.?” Anvil asks.
“No.”
“That’s why we dragged you out,” he says and then goes silent.
“Maybe it was the person who planted the cash in my apartment?”
“Yeah, ‘Vil, maybe it was that guy. Why didn’t you catch him?”
I can hear the joke in the question. It’s obvious that something went wrong on the landing.
“What happened?” I ask in a low voice.
They ignore me.
When we reach the C Crue compound, I straighten. As we roll in, I pull my coat tight. I wasn’t expecting to be back so quickly, and I’m not sure how to feel. The gin still has my head buzzing.
When we reach the front door it opens. Connor’s in a black robe and looks like we’ve woken him.
“What went down?” he asks Trick and Anvil.
“Guy in a hoodie knocked and then decided to let himself in. Anvil thinks he heard a second guy. A phone chirped. ‘Vil circles to the other end, but it’s pitch black under the stairs and he kicks something over, a glass maybe. The hoodie guy bolted and if someone was with him, he went too. Anvil could’ve chased the guy in the hoodie, but if I’d stayed on her door, then he’s on his own in the dark with potentially two shooters. Could’ve left her place unguarded while we looked, but we didn’t know if Hoodie got the door unlocked and would swing back.”
I swallow. They’d let the guys go because they didn’t want me to be left alone in an unlocked apartment?
“See anything we can use, Anvil?” C asks.
He shakes his head.
“Anvil’s wondering if he guessed right about the choice you’d want him to make in that situation,” Trick says.
“No, he’s not. You know you did the right thing. Go get some sleep.” He looks me over. “You, come with me.”
I reach for my duffle, but he catches my hand.
“You don’t need it.”
I flush and follow him.
“I’m out till the morning, C,” Trick says.
Connor raises a hand in acknowledgment.
“Anvil, you coming?”
“No.”
I glance back as Trick heads out the front door and into the night, while Anvil shuffles down a hall.
“Where is Trick going? It’s almost two in the morning. The bars are closed.”
“If I had to lay bets, I’d say he’s going to get laid.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
“He doesn’t need one. No one in his phone turns him down.”
“Why did he want a wingman?”
