I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t surprised. Some days Dickson was worse than a teenage gossip queen.
Hayden:Bring pizza
Skye emerged from the bedroom, looking cute and comfortable. In a pair of those black yoga pants that hugged her curves and an oversized shirt. Being the observant guy I was, I didn’t miss the fact she was missing a bra under that thin cotton shirt as her diamond pointed nipples poked at the material. Lifting my beer to my lips, I focused on drinking it and not Skye’s perky tits.
“You got one of those for me?” she asked, pointing to the bottle in my hand.
I went to stand, but she waved me away. “I’ll get it. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Help yourself. There’s not a lot here…” I started as she opened the fridge and winced before helping herself.
“Do you eat?” Skye asked as she fought with the cap, struggling to pop it. Sticking my hand out, I waited for her to give it to me and I popped it off easily before returning it.
“Pizza’s on the way.”
“Dinner of champions?”
“I’m not really here a lot,” I defended but we both knew it was a weak excuse.
The intercom buzzed and I got up and let Dickson into the building. It may not be the best on the block but at least it was secure. After sliding the chain off, I cracked the door and went to grab another beer from the fridge. I was just sitting back down when he burst through the door, a stack of pizza boxes in hand and a wide smile on his face.
“Honey, I’m home,” he announced.
After dropping the pizzas on the coffee table, Dickson made himself at home and we started stuffing our faces and talking about shit. Basketball season was almost upon us again and Dickson was rambling on about how it was the Hawks’ season and Mason Flynn was going to take it all the way. I just rolled my eyes. On the court, Mason Flynn was a god, even I could admit that, but off the court, well let’s just say our relationship was a work in progress.
“Ugh, I ate too much,” Skye complained as she tossed the crust back in the box and lay back on the couch, rubbing her nonexistent stomach.
“No such thing,” I mumbled around my last bite before licking my fingers, not wanting any of the cheesy, gooey goodness to go to waste.
A quietness fell over us while we watchedSports Centerand lazed in our pizza coma before Skye sat bolt upright and pointed directly at Dickson.
“I know you!” she squawked.
“O-kay,” Dickson replied, looking to me for help.
“I do. I know you. You came with Hayden on the callout when the guitars were stolen when we were on tour here.”
“Yeah.” Dickson still had no idea. He was the worst with faces. You’d think as a cop it’d be an important part of the job, but it was one of his biggest flaws.
“I was the one who called you. You came and met me, took my statement.”
“Um…” Grabbing a napkin, Dickson wiped his hands as he glared at me.
“Did you ever find the asshole who took them?” she snapped, suddenly seeming offended.
At least she’d finally given him a question he could answer. “Not yet. We had some leads but they all dried up. They haven’t been pawned off in all the normal places so whoever took them either got them out of Chicago or they’re holding on to them.”
“That sucks.” Skye pouted. It was almost like she was personally offended. Offended and pissed off.
“It’s not surprising really. A couple of guitars aren’t worth all that much. It was probably just kids who saw an opportunity.”
“An opportunity to be an asshole.”
“Skye, we haven’t given up, but a couple of missing instruments don’t stay very long at the top of the list of priorities for a city like Chicago.”
“I know but it’s just bullshit. People think they can just help themselves to something… FUCK ME!”
Skye lept from the couch, almost kicking Dickson in the nuts as she spun around, dragging her fingers through her hair.
