“Let’s go, then,” Clay said as he tilted his head to the door. “As much fun as meeting your family has been, we’re still up against the clock.”
He nodded to Dory, “See you at work,” and headed out the door.
Grade went to follow him, but Dory grabbed his arm first. Her nails dug into his forearm through his shirt.
“Whatever this is, and I don’t want to know,” she said. Ignorance was safety. Grade hadn’t learned that lesson on his own. “Is there any chance it’s going to come back on us? Mum and me? Cody?”
She waited.
There were a lot of good things in LA. Grade counted them instead of sheep sometimes when he couldn’t sleep. In the top five was that he didn’t have anyone he loved there. Friends, acquaintances, roommates. People he knew, but no one that could be used against him.
“No,” Grade lied. “I promise. If I can’t fix it, it’s all on me.”
Dory let go of his arm. She folded her arms as she stepped back.
“Again?”
He hesitated for a second and then reached into his jacket. He pulled out the fee Ezra had paid for the clean-up job and pushed it into her hands.
“If anything happens…”
“What?” she snapped as she shoved the money back at him. “You die and I send Cody to med school on… what… five grand?”
“Six, and just take it.” Grade shoved it into a cupboard and slammed the door. “Nothing is going to happen, but I’ll be out of touch for a couple of days. If anything comes up, you’ve got some cash to deal with it.”
He left before she could argue with him anymore.
Chapter Six
Clay pulled inat the Bear Pit.
It had started out life as a gas station, but the owners had added more strings to their bow as the years went on. Now it sold hunting gear, dehydrated rations, ammo, and booze—everything a hunter who wanted to make the most of the two weeks they’d paid five grand for could want. The white paint had faded off the clapboard walls, leaving them gray and weathered. Old bow-hunting targets and beer posters were roughly plastered over the walls.
There was a single pump outside. It wasn’t in use.
“No sign of your van,” Clay said. “Does the app have a hot-and-cold setting?”
Grade shook his head. “No,” he said, as he turned his sister’s phone off. Glitter suspended in blue gel slurped across the back of the case as he tucked it into his jeans. “We’re in the circle, but I think that’s as close as it is going to get.”
He stared at the Pit for a second, then visibly shook off whatever was on his mind and got out of the car. The morning sun picked out red in his hair as he headed away from the car, only to stop and look back curiously at Clay. He waved his hand toward the Pit in a mute “you coming?” and raised his eyebrows.
Clay weighed his options as he studied Grade through the windshield. The filter of grime gave a patina of morning-after-the-night-before to the squeaky-clean frat boy look, and that had its appeal. This was work, though, so Clay couldn’t just follow his cock after a lean ass and a smart mouth. Not blindly, anyhow.
It could be a wild goose chase. Grade had every reason in the world to buy time going here, there, and everywhere while he tried to come up with a way out of this. He didn’t owe Ezra anything, unlike Clay.
But what the hell. It was a nice ass, and TJ could wait. The kid was hardly a criminal genius; he wasn’t going to get far.
Clay turned the engine off and got out of the car. He stretched lazily and didn’t miss that Grade eyes dropped to where his shirt crawled up to flash a lean slice of taut skin. Or the quick, nervy way he licked his lips as he looked away.
Served him right. Thirty-five wasn’t so old that Clay couldn’t make someone’s cock hard at the worst possible time. It was really going to suck if he had to serve Grade up to the Catfish Mafia. Or…notsuck.
“You take a look around the back and see if you can find anything,” he said.
“Sure you trust me not to run off?” Grade asked sourly.
Clay could lie, he supposed, but what would be the point? It wasn’t like Grade had forgotten the stakes of this particular scavenger hunt, and Clay knew what role he’d end up playing. He didn’t have to like it, but… it still had to be done.
“I know where your sister lives,” Clay pointed out, his voice level and matter-of-fact. “And you seem to like her, so… I’m pretty sure you’re not going anywhere.”
