Willow’s feet finally got her to the entrance of the shop. As she swung the door open, she stole a glance in the direction of the two men.
The one with light, messy hair apparently had the same idea, because he was watching her.
Shit. Caught red-handed? What was it called when someone got caught checking out two guys they had no business thinking about?
Inside, she sighed at the warm air scented by the huge variety of noodles and toppings.
She located her favorite red and black package, then collected a few things to go with it. Green onions, sausages, tteok-bokki, and cheese. All of the tables were taken, so she purchased her items to-go. That was probably a blessing in disguise. She preferred eating like a gremlin, crouched in front of a screen with one knee up.
On the walk back to her apartment, she kept an eye out for the guys she’d bumped into.
Why are you looking for them?
They definitely looked like bad news, but it didn’t hurt to fantasize. It had been a couple of months since she’d hooked up with anyone. It wasn’t a self-esteem thing, she just didn’t want to be treated like a fragile doll when whoever she was hooking up with peeled off the layers. Sure, her shoulder was sensitive, but she could handle some roughness. Most of them liked the way her tattoos complemented the scars, but they’d become standoffish with her piercings. It was like they thought she was a broken pain-seeker.
The nipple piercings had been a test of strength, but the one between her legs was her ultimate act of self-healing. Her last boyfriend hated it when she got a nostril piercing. Then, she’d brought up wanting tattoos and it had resulted in an hour-long tirade on how he wasn’t going to let her look like some “druggie whore”.
But now, she was free and decorated herself in as much metal and ink as she wanted.
Once home, she prepped her meal, noting just how quiet it was.
Being alone was okay, but she would like to have a boyfriend again someday. Her extra-curricular activity made that more difficult than her general reclusiveness, however. It would take time to build enough trust to let a guy know, “Hey, I like to pretend I’m Robin Hood and scam money off companies to help people. I also have a mysterious friend in Central America and you can’t be upset about it.”
Not many guys would go for that. At best, they would ditch her. At worst, they might call the cops.
So, here she was. Alone with the sound of the TV she’d switched on to fill the silence, settled with a steaming bowl of soup, and a steady friend who was only a keystroke away.
It wasn’t so bad.
Chapter 4
Ryker
“Just smash his shit if there’s nothing to take,” Ezra said flippantly.
Ryker looked around the sorry space, not knowing exactly what he should do. The couch reeked of cigarette smoke and weed. He also wasn’t quite convinced it had been brown when Charlie bought it. Maybe it had come with the place. Either way he wasn’t there to ask.
The night the tracker had gone off they had followed the trail to a dead end. He must have seen Ezra slap it on his car because it had been removed and stuck to some poor sap’s bike.
Then, he went missing for a few days. A guy like him wouldn’t get far, though. They had eyes all over and just as they suspected, he came crawling back to his hovel.
Ryker sifted through the drawers in Charlie’s dresser. Only clothes. Not a single valuable to take.
Well, he said to start breaking shit.
He yanked the drawers out and slammed them against the floor. The particleboard shattered on impact, sendingfaux-wooden debris across the stained carpet. How the fuck did he get it so dirty?
Ezra piped up from the other room. “He has neighbors, you know.”
He groaned. “You told me to break shit. I break it, and now you’re still bitching.”
“Just saying, you don’t have to go full psycho.”
“Whatever,” Ryker muttered.
He dismantled their target’s belongings as quietly as possible. After a few minutes, Ezra came to find him.
“All right, I think we’ve done all we can. He didn’t have much. Let’s go see if we can catch him on his way home.”
