“That’s because you’re a dirty boy,” Cillian says, then shoves off my bed and lifts Ollie into his arms. “I’ll be back, Ror.”
“Have fun.” I grin, watching them go, knowing he’s about to lose himself in Ollie’s body.
I pull on my clothes, glad to have something to do. First stop, I’ll have Dean work his magic online, finding me everything he can on this Shai.
*
Turns out, Shai’spast is scrubbed, buried, or he’s changed his name. From everything Dean’s been able to find—starting with his full name when he hacked into the Pizza Palace—Shai Burrows has popped out of thin air when he moved to Ashford. That puts me, Tiernan, and Dean on high alert, but we decide not to tell Cil about it yet. He left for Michigan to meet Ollie’s dad, and he’s already nervous as shit about it. It’s not every day the son of a Mafia boss meets his boyfriend’s family, and we don’t want him to have to worry about anything else.
“Follow him. See what you can figure out,” Tiernan tells me, then to Dean, “Keep digging.”
“Bet,” I reply. I’ve always liked to be the one to follow people—stalk them, I guess you could say. Another thing on a long list of shit that helps fulfill that rush I’m always looking for but have never sated.
CHAPTER SIX
Shai
It’s been afew days since Ollie left to go home for the holiday. I wonder how things are going with his boyfriend meeting his dad. It’s not something I should think about or give a shit about, and really, it’s not that I care. I’m just curious. I can tell Ollie’s a good guy, but even though I haven’t met this boyfriend of his, I have a bad feeling about him.
I could ask some of the others at work. I’m sure there’s a way I could bring it up without looking like a creeper, but I don’t. It’s none of my fucking business, really.
So I keep my head down, do my job and earn my measly paycheck, when all I want is to get the fuck out of here and, well, if I’m honest, do something reckless. I don’t know why I thought getting my mom away from my sex-trafficking father would make anything different with her, but it hasn’t. She doesn’t know how to be a mom any more than she did before, not that I need her to be. I’ve never needed that. We basically grew up together, and at some point, I feel like I surpassed her—but then, I’m also in the new habit of holding people at gunpoint and stealing their money for fun, so who am I to judge? And she might still be drinking like crazy and letting men pay to fuck her, but at least she isn’t getting her assbeaten every other day.
They have me on the register tonight at work, which I fucking hate. Not that I’m a fan of making pizza, but it’s better than dealing withthe customer is always right, especially when the customer is mostly spoiled college kids.
I’m folding boxes, with my back to the register, the sound of cardboard on cardboard like nails on a chalkboard, when someone clears his throat behind me. Fuck. I do not want to deal with people right now.
A sigh falling from my lips, I turn around—and freeze. My heart starts beating like crazy, my ears echoey as I take in the person standing in front of me.
It’s him.
Cherry.
The motherfucker whose gun is locked in the trunk of my car and who promised to kill me.
He slips his hands into the pockets of his coat and smiles. “Can you help me?” He cocks a brow, and I realize I’m just standing there staring.
Please don’t let him recognize my voice.“Um…yeah. Sorry. One of those days. What can I get you?”
This has to be a coincidence. No way can he know who I am. He’s here for some fucking pizza, and I need to chill out. Everything will be fine.
“What would you suggest?” Cherry asks.
“Pizza?”
He chuckles. “Funny guy. Toppings, I mean.”
“You’re the one eating it,” falls from my mouth, which isn’t very smart. Talking shit to someone who has no fear with a gun in his face, and also, I’d like to keep this job, but what the fuck. It’s pizza. How hard is it to choose?
“Well, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” He’s watching me, this deep, penetrating gaze I swear is almost like he’s touchingme. I’ve seen and done a lot. I’m not scared of much, and I’m not scared of him, but I sense the danger in him. I sensed it that night I robbed him…and I like it.
“Are you going to ask to speak to my manager?”
“No. I deal with issues on my own. Are you going to be an issue…” I tense again as his words trail off, but then he adds, “Or can I order pizza? I’m starving.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. I’m a simple guy. I like pepperoni.”
“Pepperoni it is. For here. A medium. And a Coke.”
