“Shit, man, what happened?” Ace bellows at the reflection in the mirror.
“Fuckin’ Viper ambushed me, then they kicked the shit outta me.” I ball up the bloody towels and dump them into the trash.
Fist slams his hand against the wall. “He’s over.”
“We came looking for you, and the manager said you left his office like fifteen minutes ago.”
Shady examines my face. “Don’t look like anything’s broken.”
Speed leans against the stall. “He really tuned you up.”
I push past them. “I gotta get over to The End.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shady asks. “You can barely walk, and your eye is swollen shut.”
I head for the back door, and they follow me out with Ace at my side. “You look like shit.”
“I’m fine.” I pat my pockets, come up with my smokes, and plug one between my lips. Ace lights me up, and I drag deep.
“Whatever you got goin’ on can wait till morning,” Ace says.
“The chick who owns The End is connected somehow to the Dogs, and Viper threatened her before he left. I gotta find out what the fuck is going on with her.”
Ace grabs my arm. “Let one of us come with you.”
“I said, I’m fine.” I pull away from him and head for my bike.
“You’re still a crazy motherfucker,” Ace shouts at my back.
“Who knows,” I throw over my shoulder, “maybe me giving her a heads-up will convince her to sell The End.”
“Just make sure that’s all you give her.”
I throw him the finger over my head, then pull out the keys to my Harley. I swing my leg over the saddle, regroup for a minute, then hit the throttle and wheel out of the lot. My head is fuckin’ spinning, but I can’t forget Viper’s words, and I have no intentions of adding more guilt to my already long list.
Chapter Twelve
DEUCE
I pull into The End parking lot and spy one light on the second floor. After the last time, I’m not expecting a warm welcome, but this shit has to get done. Actually, I could’ve told Ace to come here and warn her while I headed to the apartment to lie down. Me being here has little to do with precaution and everything to do with me wanting to see her again.
I bang on the shitty door until I hear movement on the other side.
“Who’s there?” her unmistakable rasp shoots right to my gut, then lower.
“Deuce,” I wheeze. “I gotta talk to you.”
“What part of ‘I don’t want to see you again’ didn’t you understand?”
“Don’t fuck around. It’s important.”
“Then you can tell me through the door. Or better yet, send me a text.”
I heave out a sigh. “Just open the fuckin’ door,” I shout, and my head throbs harder. I lean my hand against the doorjamb, and my head dips from the sheer pain of holding it up.
The door whips open, and I slowly raise my head.
“Holy shit, what the fuck happened to you?”
