“You wanna get me wrote up?‘Cause this is how,” he says to nobody and shuts the locker with a pop.
He takes three more steps until he’s at my row, his torch up.The beam skates over shelves and pauses on the locker I left open, now very sweaty.
“Ugh.”He rubs it with his sleeve and sniffs.“Smells like…rain.”
Aye, because the heat pack did its job and then minded its business like a good girl.
From right above me, one fat bead of water lets go from the duct and hits the concrete with an impolite plink.Ritchie’s light snaps left—right where I am.
I suck in, shrivel my dick and balls, and think really skinny thoughts while I try to become one with the wall.
Prayer said no killing.For that, I may need a miracle.
I palm a wee hex nut from my pocket I got from my van and flick it low, underhanded.It jumps and skitters two aisles over.
Ritchie jolts.“Hey!”
He swings the torch after the sound, his breath held like it’ll help him see.He takes two big-boy steps that way, then stops and laughs at himself.“Man, this place is creepy as hell at night.”
His radio crackles.
He jumps, swears, then answers.“Yeah, I’m gettin’ it now.Chill.And hey—if you see Mike up there?Tell him to bench the Chiefs’ D already.They’re trash tonight.”
When his back’s to me, I’m up and away in the other direction, a smudge that has had enough of basements for one night.
Outside, the night gulps me down.
Once I’m in my van again, I sit a minute, palms flat to the wheel, let the adrenaline climb down my bones one rung at a time.There’s a sweetness in doing a thing right that violence cannae touch.Keeping a man out of a noose is a different kind of kill.
Gas N’ Go sits quiet and dark, and my Prayer has gone home, where she waits for both dawn and me.
When she wakes, we’ll come for Farley and Michael Devlin’s face.
Chapter 14
Sera
SoGladYou’reHere!Farley’s doormat announces when James and I step up onto the front porch early the next morning.
Something tells me the positive sentiment is about to change.
We’re in a semi-secluded neighborhood north of the city, and this house is the only one fully built on a cul-de-sac.
James tries the doorknob, and when it doesn’t turn, his hands turn into blurs to poke and prod both the regular lock and the deadbolt.Five seconds later, if that, the door pops open a crack.
I turn my head to spear him with a disbelieving look, but he just shrugs and gives me that heart-stopping grin.
We step inside.
The house smells like burnt toast, and over the sound of SpongeBob’s manic laughter in the living room, voices carry from what I presume is the kitchen.
“I have to do everything around here with one goddamn hand!You think that’s easy?You think I asked for this?”
I stop.James stops beside me, close enough I feel his heat, his controlled stillness.
That’s obviously Farley whining, even though he doesn’t have enough reasons to whine.His house is gorgeous, and judging by the pictures on the walls, he doesn’t deserve such a drop-dead beautiful wife.
A woman’s voice answers him.“I know, honey.I’m sorry.I’ll—“
