Am I just a way to cement himself into our crew?
Shit… is he trying toreplaceme?
Fuck it. He can have my place. Two more jobs, and I’m done with this anyway.
Why don’t I call Kurt, tell him everything, lethimdeal with Declan?
Because I know what would happen if I did. Kurt would…Pablohim. A bullet in the back on the next job. Or some other way that Declan might somehow disappear.
And that raises another very important question.Why am I protecting him?
I don’t have an answer to that.
Tasha’s apartment is in a four-story block, white render, with the luxury of a balcony. Gated underground parking off the street, which is perfect for keeping my pride and joy safe. It’s a nice area; Kurt pays her well, and she’s done more jobs for him than I have.
The street’s quiet as I roll up, and I strip off a glove, fish my phone out of my pocket, and send her an ‘I’m here’ text. She arrives two minutes later, dirty-blond hair in a loose pony, dressed in baggy sweats and a T-shirt three sizes too large, opening the gate for me from inside. I roll down the ramp, and she waves me to an unmarked space near a wall, out of the way.
“You’ll be fine there,” she tells me. “No one will mind.”
“Thanks.” I kick the stand down, turn the bike off, and sigh. At least I’m safe; he won’t find me here.
“Jesus, Raven.” She’s watching me with wide eyes. “Come on up. I have coffee brewing, but… I think you need wine.”
I give a strained laugh as I follow her to the elevator. “It’s only noon.”
“Who cares?” She hugs me as soon as the doors whisk closed, making no complaint about how uncomfortable my jacket is, and I relax just a touch with the contact.
Her apartment is on the top floor, practical rather than characterful, furnished from IKEA, bigger than mine. I’ve been here a handful of times before, oncewith Cammy when we did a girl’s night thing. Tasha spilt blue nail polish on the couch, and the stain’s still there.
“Red or white?” she asks, pulling glasses from a cupboard.
“Red. Please.” I divest myself of my jacket, kick my boots off too, and rest my backpack on the floor.
“On the balcony?” she asks, a glass of wine in each hand.
I can’t help my hesitation at the thought that I could be seen up there, but that’s just being silly. LA is a big place, and Declan was too…preoccupiedto be following me, even if he knew I was there.
I’m certain he didn’t.
But I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t check my mirrors that well. Right after I just proved how easy it is to tail someone.
“Oh, baby.” Tasha looks at me with sympathy. “We can stay in here. It’s all good.”
“Just…” I brave a smile. “Balcony’s fine.”
A sliding door lets out onto a concrete space just big enough for two wooden chairs, and it’s pleasant with the sun shining down. Relaxing, actually, and I take a deep drink of my wine, feeling some of my tension abate.
Letting the hurt rise to the surface.
“So… um… want to tell me?”
“Not much to tell.” I shrug one shoulder. “You remember Chad and Brandon?”
“Sure.” She grimaces.
“Turns out they were training for the real thing.Declan is all the worst bits of both of them.”
Her eyes widen. “Noway!”
