“Who?”
My friend rolls his eyes. “You know Paul. You’ve come to lunch with us before. He’s the guy who stays close by the office. I haven’t seen him since Easton came back. What if something happened to him?”
It’s so violently Brady that I struggle not to laugh. That spark of good in him is fucking resilient, I’ll give him that. I’ve missedthis side of him more than I can put words to. “We can go see if he’s still around. Easton and Blake are busy, and one afternoon off won’t derail anything here.”
He practically sags in relief. “You think so?”
I yank my gloves up and stand up. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”
We make quick work of the cleanup and alert the others of our impending departure so Blake can set the security alarm for the doors. In the car, Brady looks three shades less gloomy than his normal as of late. It’s nice to have a little reassurance that he’s not giving up either. I need him and Easton to be the sunshine so there’s some balance to my natural state of gloom. Or as Parker describes it—Eeyore. Easton still brings that up occasionally—rookie mistake telling him about the comparison—but he sure finds it funny.
Finding a guy who doesn’t have an address or phone number is a little hit or miss. It involves a fair amount of driving around aimlessly, keeping your eyes peeled, and some wandering around popular camping spots. We find a family friendly addict that hides the crack pipe when kids walk by outside a grocery store, where we each leave a twenty, but as time goes on with no sign of Paul, Brady grows increasingly worried.
“It’s his bad knee. I just know it. I keep telling him to go to the clinic before it starts getting cold, but he hasn’t, and now he’s seriously hurt.”
“And you know this because your spidey senses are acting up?”
Knowing he rolls his eyes doesn’t require visual confirmation. “No, asshole. Because healthcare is difficult to access and these fucking streets are hell on my very healthy joints, much less Paul’s.”
Very good point. My quads are fucking burning. “We’ll find him. What is the tracker thing they put on orcas? We could ask if he’d keep one of those in his pocket to make locating him easier.”
Brady huffs a half-hearted laugh. “You’re being purposefully ridiculous to distract me from being worried.”
“Is it working?” I ask, knocking my shoulder against his.
Brady considers it. “Kinda. I think we should check Seattle Center. He goes there sometimes. He likes the performers.”
“Your car is, like, five blocks away. That way.” I indicate with my finger.
“Nah, we can walk. It’s nice out and I don’t want to backtrack that much.”
I gape at him. “Walk? After starting by the grocery store, going down to check by the pier, and then coming back up the stairs of hell? You want to walk? Do you hate me?”
Brady chuckles affectionately, like I’m joking. “You’ll be fine. Cardio is good for you.”
I shake my head. “Maybe it’s good for you, but I’d rather snuggle a boa constrictor. Less chance of premature death.”
“You’ll thank me for this when we’re seventy and everyone we know has had a hip replacement except us. In fact, you’re welcome in advance.”
He’d drag me to the finish line of anything kicking and screaming just to show me I could do it. I don’t know what I’d do without him. If one thing is certain, he won’t let me find out, and I’m grateful for that.
CHAPTER 23
CHASE
For the third time since we got to Seattle Center, I am forced to bolt three feet sideways, because apparently, it’s still not cold enough for these idiots to retire their anacondas for the season. “Motherfucker,” I mutter as Brady drags me back to the walkway. “That thing could eat a tiger.”
Brady glances backwards. “It’s, like, five feet. You got a lot of nerve calling me dramatic as much as you do.”
I shake my head. “Nah. You’re still too Floridan for your own good. That thing is a prehistoric monster.”
“One day, I’m gonna have to fish you out of Puget Sound when you miscalculate your escape route from a normal-sized ball python that was being safely held by its owner. Just be glad there’s no body of water here for you to drown in.”
“He fucking swung it at me like it was a rope. Go fuck yourself. It’s a perfectly valid reaction to a forced interaction with a dangerous predator.”
Brady laughs deeply. “We can go back and have an educational chat with the dude about consent if you’d like.”
I resist the urge to walk faster, but only just. “Like hell, but thanks for the offer.”
