Her lips tilt into a smile. “I feel partly to blame since you had a pissing contest with Viper here, and then he used your face as a punching bag last night while he used me to threaten you.”
“Got nothing to do with you. Viper and I were at each other long before you came into the picture. Me being gone for five years gave him a false sense of security, but I have no intention of letting him slide, and that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with building up the Kings in AC again.”
“I guess you figured out he wants this place too.”
“Yeah, I got that loud and clear last night, but that ain’t happening.”
“You should steer clear of Viper because . . . Viper is evil.”
“And I’m not?”
“No, you’re just dumb if you go head-to-head with Viper. I don’t think you know what he’s capable of because, if you did, you’d take his warning,” she motions to my banged-up face, “and move on.”
“Not possible, but what if I have another idea that lets you keep the ownership of The End, and lets the Kings use it as a clubhouse?”
“Ohhhh, no, absolutely not.”
I hold up my palm. “Just hear me out.”
“No. I’ve told you I’m not selling.” She spreads her arms wide. “You don’t understand; this is all I have.” She lowers her head, turns away from me, and her shoulders shudder. “I have nowhere else to go.”
“Babe?”
“I told you not to call me that.” Her whispered gasp tugs at my chest.
I reach out, turn her face to me and wince. “Shit, don’t cry. Fuck, I hate when women cry.”
“You almost sound like you care.”
“I sure as shit don’t wanna see you crying. Especially not you.”
“Why? ‘Cause I’m supposed to be so tough? Supposed to be able to take care of myself?” She shifts her legs. “Well, I’m shit-poor at taking care of myself.” She pulls up the right leg of her jeans, and my eyes widen.
“Shit!”
“After eight months, they let me out of EMSF for good behavior.” She points to the monitor. “And as a parting gift, I got to go home with this lovely piece of jewelry.”
“Holy shit, you’re tagged,” I blurt out, then I lean forward as far as my busted body will allow to see where the strap’s rubbed her skin raw.
“Just like a wild animal.”
Fuckin' sucks, but I gotta say, I’m intrigued. All the shit I’ve been into, I never had to wear one of those. “How’s it work?”
“House arrest for three months total. Can’t go any more than two hundred yards away from The End. Just far enough to put out the garbage on Tuesday and Friday.”
I bark out a laugh, then hold my midsection. “You got funny fuckin’ way of spitting shit out.”
She spreads her arms wide. “Yeah, I’m just a laugh a minute.”
Then she waits for my reaction. It’s the second time she’s used dark humor to deflect, and I get it, but she won’t get any judgment from me. I don’t waste time on judgment. I keep inventory.
“Man, I thought my story was fucked up, but I got another question.” My eyes are glued to her ankle as the thing hums quietly. Like it’s alive and watching me back.
“Shoot.”
“Going to bars is against parole, and you’re basically living in one, so how did that work with your PO?”
“One of the beauty parts of dealing with an overcrowded system and an overworked parole officer. You saw the way the place looks, so I just told them I was going to gut the building.” She shrugs. “Might be my only option, but like I said, the whole system is overworked, and they really didn’t give a shit as long as I sign into my virtual meeting every week.”
