“The fuck you talking about, Vik?”
“It’s not important. What we need to focus on is tonight. We know Patch is here, andyou twoneed to steer clear until I can make sure he’s not looking to cause a scene. But has anyone caught sight of Steel, yet?”
“Haven’t seen him, but he’s here.” The one person I don’t expect to chime in answers.
Si tips his head towards his wife. “And why the fuck do you know that?”
The obnoxiously possessive growl that comes out of him is laughable. Something happens out of view under the table,and Harlow squawks before shooting him a look that makes my balls retract.
“Do that again and see how fun it is to jerk off with missing fingers,” she hisses, creating a gap between their bodies, and turning her attention to me.
“He’s got a thing for younger women.” She throws a quick snear at her husband. He looks ready to drag her out of here by her hair, with every new jab she sends his way. “His current piece of ass is attached to her phone twenty-four-seven, and she’s been documenting their trip down here.”
Harlow pulls out her phone, taps on the screen a few times, and twists it around for me to see. The timestamp is two minutes ago, and she’s at the beach, drink in hand, tits out for anyone to see, even though it’s barely ten a.m.
None of the beaches around here are nude, so I’m sure that’ll garner the wrong kind of attention. Steel’s got his hands full with that one, but then again, the girl looks barely eighteen.
“That doesn’t tell me where he is.”
Harlow holds up her finger. It’s perfect timing because our waitress returns with a platter of our food and passes it out. By the time she’s done, the phone’s in my face again. This time, Steel’s on the screen, looking pissed at life. The little hearts around his leather-clad frame look ridiculous.
“Told you. They’re staying at some swanky place up town. Must be nice.” She sends another side eye toward her husband.
“Enough, wildcat. Eat your fucking breakfast. And if you cut the shit…” He leans in, lowering his voice, but not enough that I miss the rest of his sentence. “I’ll eat you in the bathroom when you’re done.”
Her mood immediately flips, and she picks up her silverware, diving into the omelet steaming on her plate.
Their back-and-forth reminds me of the silence radiating from my pocket.
“Hey, you heard from Josie today?”
Harlow pauses shoveling her meal. “Uhh, nope. Why, what’s up? Something happen?”
“Don’t know, haven’t heard from her since yesterday, after school pick up.”
“Want me to text her?”
“No, it’s fine. She’s probably just busy.”
Harlow must see something I’m not fast enough to hide from crossing my face, because her fingers fly against her screen. Not even thirty seconds later, it vibrates on the table.
“She’s with a client.”
My fist collides with the table. I shove Chopper out of my way so I can stand, reach for my wallet, throw down enough cash to cover our meals, and apologize for the outburst to the waitress who’s staring at the commotion.
They don’t say anything, just watch me peel out of the diner without a clue.
Josie doesn’t fucking work today.
PARANOIA ON BLACKTOP
VIKING
By the timewe’re rolling up to the abandoned warehouse lot for the meet-up, my fuse is short, burnt through, leaving a trail of ash in its place and nothing but smoke on the breeze to show for it.
The decaying warehouse at the other side of the chained-in property has long been forgotten. Rusted through siding matches the busted-out windows, while nature slowly takes back over the spot with climbing weeds and piling dirt.
The wind cuts across the empty blacktop, dragging sand and tumbling trash across our path. The only light, besides the soft glow from the moon, comes from our bikes parked every which way to eliminate the possibility of surprise guests.
