“Ice cream seemed to have done the trick.”
He laughs softly. “Yeah. Thank you, by the way. For taking her.”
“I can help anytime,” I tell him. Still not sure what she had an appointment for, but it’s none of my business anyway. If they need me, I’ll do whatever, no questions asked.
“How are you doing?” I haven’t seen him in a while, so I’m going to get as much information out of him as possible.
“Fine,” he answers too quickly.
“Are you having hallucinations from the founders’ enhancements?”
He drops his head, looking down at the ground, and sighs. “They come and go.”
“Want to talk about it?” I’ve always been the single Spade brother who is willing to talk about his feelings. The others never have. I get it. We’re raised to not have any. I just never understood why it was better to not show them.
“I—”
“You two going to fucking move or what?”
We both glance over to see a truck now parked behind me. “Excuse me?”
“Fucking move! You’ve been sitting talking like two bitches for ten minutes.”
“There are other pumps you can use,” I say, gesturing around to the other available pumps.
“If you don’t move in five seconds, I’m going to run your fucking bike over.” He slaps the side of his door as if to prove a point.
“Go ahead. I’ll shove the leftover pieces up your ass,” Sin tells him with a smile.
The driver’s door opens, and the man jumps out. He could be Haidyn’s twin in size and height, if not a little taller. Wearing denim overalls and a hat that says Try Me.
Careful what you wish for.
The passenger door opens, and another man jumps out with a fucking baseball bat.
Sin glances at me, his smile growing. “Knew this would come in handy.” He picks up the helmet that sits on the seat of his bike and swings at the guy who is now running toward him.
I don’t get to see the rest because the second guy knocks me to the ground.
Sirens blare in the distance.
“Thanks for making my day, fucker.” Sin kicks the one at his feet.
I remove my cell from my back pocket and make a quick call.
“Is this you calling to apologize?” he asks in greeting.
“Sin and I are about to get arrested,” I tell Tyson as the sirens grow closer. The clerk came out a minute ago and screamed for us to stop before he ran back inside to hide and call the cops.
“Jesus Christ. You two?—”
“Call your detective,” I interrupt him.
“Kash—”
“See you soon.” I hang up when the flashing lights pull into the gas station. Three police cars come to a screeching halt. Sin and I raise our hands while both guys whine, rolling around on the dirty ground.
I could pull the Lords card, but I’m not in the mood for that. Not when Tyson has a connection that could get us out of it.
