***
Blue flashing lights lit up the parking lot. The crowd of gawkers gave up, pocketed their cell phones, and wandered back to their cars.
Show’s over, folks. Nothing to see here.
Static crackled over a nearby police radio. Lucky watched a squad car pull away with his brother inside. Most honest folk were tucked in bed and snoozing by this late hour. No one ever accused Lucky of being honest. Not enough to totally blow his rep anyway.
Jimmy slapped Lucky’s shoulder. “I believe I’m leaving you in good hands.” He eyed Rett and tipped an imaginary hat. “Ma’am.”
“You didn’t just ‘ma’am’ me.” Rett’s scowl would’ve sent a smarter man hauling ass, though Jimmy’s quick scamper might count. She threw an arm around Lucky’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let me get you home.”
Lucky staggered to the front passenger door.
“Nope, no need for that. I’ve made things nice and cozy for you in the back.” She opened the rear door and gestured Lucky inside.
Pillows, blankets, and a sleeping bag sat piled on the backseat. “You don’t do nothin’ halfway, do ya?”
Rett lifted a blanket for Lucky to crawl under. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing. Now get your ass settled, and I’ll get our butts back to Atlanta.”
“I’m not an invalid.” Wow. She’d managed to make Lucky a fairly comfortable makeshift bed.
“Didn’t say you were. You okay?” Johnson drove slowly out of the parking lot and had the decency not to hit any potholes.
“Are we there yet?” Lucky hollered.
“Don’t make me come back there.”
Strapped in the back seat of Johnson’s Jeep, nestled in enough padding to shield him from direct impact with an eighteen-wheeler, high on two fucking amazing pills. If and when he stopped hurting, he might need to check into rehab.
“No, really, how far are we?” His bladder ached.
At least the ache in his bladder and side dulled the ache in his head and heart. Poor Mama. And Dad. And neither in any shape to deal with their kids’ shit.
“Rett?”
“We’re a half mile closer than the last time you asked.”
“That’s not what I intended to ask. Can you find out what they plan to do with my brother?” Had Daytona really intended to kill him? Did he have two brothers after his sorry ass, or just Day? He and Bristol favored each other enough to be mistaken on a video.
“They found a gun under the BMW’s seat, but not on him, so they’re taking him in for questioning.”
“Where they taking him?”
“Greensboro.”
Greensboro. Fuck. “Turn this thing around. I want to be there when they question him.” Regardless of what he’d tried to do, the kid was still Daytona. He needed family, even family he wanted to kill.
Johnson glanced up at Lucky in the rearview mirror. “Walter said to take you home. I’m considering his words to be an order from a superior.”
“I’m your superior, and I said we’re going to Greensboro.”
“Are you asking, telling, or ordering?”
“Whatever it takes.”
Johnson did a U-turn in the middle of the road.
***
