No.
“This guy sounds like a jerk,” I said.
“He is a jerk,” Luke replied.
Luke pul ed over and parked in a wel -lit street in a neighborhood fil ed with comfortable houses of the nearly very rich. He made to exit the vehicle.
“Wait,” I cal ed.
He turned to me and raised his brows.
“We can’t do this,” I told him.
“Why not?” he asked.
“It’s not right.”
Luke twisted his body ful y to face me. “We don’t make judgments. We send invoices.”
I could see right away where there might be a problem with my being on the team. I didn’t make judgments but I sure as hel had a moral code.
I decided not to debate this point with Luke mainly because I didn’t figure I’d change his mind in the few minutes I had.
I tried a different tactic. “I don’t see how this is going to help me be more of a nuisance to drug dealers.”
“This isn’t training, babe, this is a ride-along. You go where I go. You don’t like it, I’l take you home and you can have a bubble bath.”
In truth a bubble bath sounded good. However I figured if I fucked up this chance there wouldn’t be another one. I was too curious about what this team of badasses did for a living, considering I was “with” one of them (I didn’t know how to describe my relationship with Vance except that cal ing him my “boyfriend” sounded pretty stupid… we were exclusive, Vance made that clear, but how to translate that into a descriptive modifier was un clear). Also I had the impression that the team liked me, respected me. I had this impression because somewhat easily they’d accepted me.
If I went home and had a bubble bath I knew that would disintegrate faster than the bubbles.
“Let’s do this,” I muttered, getting out my side.
As he did last night, Luke walked straight up to the house like he owned the place. He opened the door with a key.
“You have a key?” I whispered, not about to make the same mistake as I’d made last night by being loud and cal ing attention to us.
He looked at me. “Client gave it to us.”
Oh. Right. That made sense.
Luke entered and didn’t turn on any lights. He went directly to a massive kitchen like he’d taken that route on numerous occasions. I fol owed.
He went straight to a smal office off the kitchen that even in the dark I could see it was decorated by a woman. Luke pul ed on a pair of plastic gloves then took a smal flashlight out of his belt and started to rifle through the desk.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“Anything,” Luke answered.
I stood there watching.
The flashlight often slid along the wal s and I saw one of those bul etin boards with the criss-cross ribbons on it, business cards, receipts, notes, letters and photos were shoved into the ribbons. The photos were different shots of shoved into the ribbons. The photos were different shots of the same four people, a woman, a man and two young boys.
“They have children,” I hissed at Luke.
Luke didn’t answer, he kept searching.
I got more uncomfortable. I wanted to pretend it didn’t matter but it went against the grain, so deeply against the grain that the grain was feeling raw.
“Luke.”
He straightened and turned to me. “Not our problem.”
“But –”
“Babe.” His voice was a warning. I was trying his patience.
I snapped my mouth shut and crossed my arms on my chest.
I decided a bubble bath was sounding good. In fact, after we were done here, I was going to ask Luke to take me home. Then I was going to put my bath oil in my bag for the cabin and take my bath there when, after I was done, I could cozy up to Vance.
Fuck this shit.
So I would lose my unofficial place on the team.
Whatever.
Luke lost interest in the office and went upstairs. He was nearly as silent as Vance.
I fol owed trying hard not to stomp and throw a tantrum although I thought the situation warranted it.
We went to the bedroom and Luke rifled some more –
drawers, medicine cabinet in the bathroom, nightstand.
Then he got on his side on the floor and swung the light underneath the bed then he dropped to his back and shoved in his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“What?” I asked, arms stil crossed on my chest, hip hitched, one leg out. My stance said “attitude” but I had to admit I was curious.
Luke came out with a box. He’d opened it under the bed.
He got to his feet, put the little flashlight between his teeth and with the box open in one hand, he rifled through it with the other.
I walked forward and looked then stared with my mouth open.
It was a little pharmaceutical cabinet, not just pil s (lots of pil s), but vials fil ed with white powder, three of them, two very ful , one half-empty, a mirror, a razor blade and a rol ed up bil .
“Bitch is a cokehead,” Luke remarked after he’d taken the flashlight from his teeth.
“It could be his,” I suggested.
“He’s payin’ us to search his house. You think he’d leave his shit lyin’ around?”
Damn.
That made sense.
“Maybe he planted it,” I tried again.
“Doubtful. It isn’t hers, he’l have a problem proving it if she fights it. Considering what’s at stake, she wil . Easy enough to find out if she’s smart enough to ask for it to be printed.”
Damn again!
I glared at him.
Luke ignored my glare, dropped down and replaced the box.
“Don’t you need to photograph that or something?” I asked when he was back on his feet and back to searching.
“Cal goes out to the husband tonight. They’re at a show.
He comes home, knows right where to find it, big scene. He asks for the divorce. He’s got the dirt to nail her. She has no idea he has a woman on the side. She caves because she’s fucked.”
His scenario left a bad taste in my mouth. This wasn’t about two people, it was about four.
Fuck.
After finding something Luke’s search intensified. In the end he found two more hidden vials of coke both nearly empty and another kit with mirror, blade and bil . He also found so many pil bottles hidden just about everywhere that it wasn’t funny. Final y he found an envelope taped to the back of the dining room hutch, in it a stack of receipts from pawn shops. Pil -Poppin’ Mama Cokehead was pawning jewelry, silver, Waterford crystal and a goodly number of other household items to finance her habit.
Luke yanked off his gloves and I knew we were done.
We left how we came in, got in the car and Luke cal ed it in.
I sat there not knowing what to feel.
Those two boys had a cheating father who wanted to screw over his wife and a drug addict mother who, from the looks of it, was either high as a kite or significantly sedated on a regular basis.
After Luke was done describing where the bulk of the evidence could be found, he said, “Out,” then he started the Explorer and pul ed away from the curb.
“This feels shit,” I told him, staring angrily out the window.
Luke didn’t respond.
“People suck,” I went on.
Luke stayed silent.
I crossed my arms on my chest. “We gonna go somewhere and crack some heads now?” I asked.
Luke chuckled. “You’re gettin’ it,” he said.
Whatever.
* * * * *
We didn’t crack heads. Or I should say, I didn’t crack heads. We did something else that rocked my world. It wasn’t worse than being left with musings of the terrible life ahead for two little boys I didn’t know and would never meet but it was something that shook my world and what I thought was my place in it.
We went to a bar off Evans, a dive I’d
never been to and likely would never see again.
In the parking lot Luke turned to me. “The guy we’re gonna meet isn’t gonna be happy to see me.”
“Why?” I asked.
“He’l be expecting Bobby or Matt. At most, Ike.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means he thinks he’s flyin’ under radar and we aren’t takin’ him seriously. I walk in there, he’s gonna know aren’t takin’ him seriously. I walk in there, he’s gonna know we’re serious. You got your gun?”
I’d put it under my seat. I bent to retrieve it but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“You don’t go in there carryin’. With this you’re not the one posin’ the threat, I am.”
This al seemed quite complicated. I wanted to ask questions but instead I nodded.
Luke entered the bar in his usual manner, body language communicating confidently that he knew who he was, he knew what he was doing and he knew where he was going.
I fol owed, probably not looking as cool and confident as Luke because I didn’t know any of those things.
Stil , people turned to look when we walked in and when they saw us, their looks became stares.
Luke walked to a booth, a man was sitting in it and he reminded me of Sal Cordova. Ladies man or at least he thought he was. Caucasian, dirty-blond hair, dressed to the nines.
His face showed surprise and perhaps a hint of fear when his eyes hit Luke then he covered it. His gaze hit on me and he too stared but again only for a moment then his eyes went back to Luke.
“Stark,” he said when Luke arrived at the table, “didn’t expect you to be running errands for Marcus. What? You get demoted?”
My body went rock solid and I looked at Luke. Then I realized what I was giving away and I forced myself to relax.
Running an errand for Marcus?
Marcus Sloan?
Gun runner with drug dealer and pimp on the side?
Luke looked at me and I felt he was tel ing me something. It took a few beats for me to cotton on and I slid in the booth opposite Ladies Man and Luke slid in beside me.
“Who’s this? The Law?” Ladies Man was joking.
“Yeah,” Luke answered.
Ladies Man’s eyes cut to me and the forced joviality faded from his face. I could tel he didn’t know what to make of me.
I kept quiet.
“She on the payrol now or what? I heard she took down Warren last night,” Ladies Man asked.
“We’re not here to talk about Law,” Luke said.
Ladies Man’s attention returned to Luke. “Hey man, I don’t know what this is al about. When I got the message, I was fuckin’ stunned. Seems a lot of trouble over nothin’.” For some reason Luke said, “Stop,” and I didn’t think he was tel ing him to stop talking.
Ladies Man kept on smiling his good ole boy smile.
“What?”
“Stop,” Luke repeated.
“I know you’re a man of few words but what? Is this the message? Give me a clue.” He turned to me. “Law? Do you know? How many syl ables? Sounds like?”
Over the past few days Luke and I had shared a lot or at least I guessed in the World of Luke it was a lot. So I felt pretty safe in thinking that Luke would not take to this guy being a smartass very wel .
I wasn’t wrong.
Luke lifted up in a squat, leaned across the table and, I kid you not, grabbed on to Ladies Man’s col ar and pul ed him clean out of his seat. He put his other hand on him then twisted.
I reared back and just barely was missed when Ladies Man’s body went flying by me and into the booth behind us.
Oh… my… God.
I got the keen sensation that Luke had been holding back in our training sessions.
Like.
A lot.
Luke slid out of our booth and stalked to the other one.
I fol owed.
By the time I made it to him Luke had Ladies Man by the col ar. He’d pul ed him out of that thankful y empty booth and whirled, slamming him against a wal .
There was music playing in the bar but the hum of conversation died as everyone watched Luke.
Luke yanked Ladies Man forward and then slammed him against the wal again. I could hear the crack of Ladies Man’s skul against the wal .
Yikes.
Luke held him pressed there, his legs dangling beneath him a foot off the floor, his hands wrapped around Luke’s wrist and forearm. Just like in the movies, Luke held him aloft one-handed. I didn’t even know people could do that in real life.
It was a sight to see. It gave me a bel y flutter and a heart It was a sight to see. It gave me a bel y flutter and a heart flutter and I was jealous as al hel .
Luke wasn’t just kickass. He was kickass.
“Stop,” Luke repeated the same word.
Ladies Man wasn’t feeling like being a smartass anymore. He looked scared shitless.
“Got me?” Luke asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Got you. Tel Marcus, nothin’ to worry about.
I’m out,” Ladies Man rasped because Luke’s hand was wrapped around his throat.
Luke dropped him.
Ladies Man’s legs buckled a bit when he landed but he pul ed himself together and his hands went to his neck.
Luke turned his head to me. I got the message loud and clear and we both walked out.
We were buckled in and on and the road before I found my voice. “That wasn’t fair. You hogged al the head crackin’.”
Luke was silent but I could tel he was amused.
“Next time I get to throw the guy across the booth,” I announced.
“Not tonight. We’re done.”
“Done?”
“Done.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“But we’ve only been out…” I looked at the dashboard clock, “an hour and a half.”
“Nothin’ more on tonight’s agenda, babe.”
Wel , that was disappointing.
“You should come on a ride-along on one of my nights out. It lasts longer and is a lot more fun.” I told him.
“I’l take you up on that.”
Whoops.
I’d said it to be snotty. I didn’t expect he’d agree. This meant another conversation with Vance.
Shit.
Luke again walked me to my door, took my keys, pushed in ahead of me and turned off my alarm. This time he didn’t head to the kitchen. I thought it best not to offer him a beer.
Then I asked what had been praying on my mind for the last twenty minutes. “Do you guys work for Marcus Sloan?”
“We’re on retainer,” Luke answered.
I closed my eyes. This was not good.
“Babe.”
I opened my eyes again. “He’s a drug dealer. He runs guns. He sel s flesh,” I whispered.
“He’s also Daisy’s husband,” Luke responded.
I felt like he’d punched me in the gut.
Daisy’s husband? Daisy was married to a drug dealer?
A flesh peddler? A gun runner?
“What?” My voice was so low even I wondered if I’d made any noise.
Super Dude Luke’s superpowers included super-hearing. “He isn’t a good guy but he’s a good al y.” I didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. I was trying to process. I was also trying to breathe. Both I was finding difficult.
“Daisy’s clean,” Luke told me.
“Does she know what he does?”
“I’m guessin’, yeah.”
“Then she can’t be clean.”
“She’s clean.”
“I think you and I may have different definitions of the word ‘clean’.”
Al of a sudden he advanced. Even knowing I was a head crackin’ mamma jamma I retreated. I was vulnerable. I liked Daisy. I liked her a lot. I wanted to be her friend but more, I wanted her to be mine. I’d suffered a blow from which I didn’t know if I could recover.
Somehow Luke got me up against a wal and h
e came in close. This wasn’t predatory-I’m-going-to-kiss-you close, this was pay-attention-to-me close.
“People do what people do to get by or get ahead or leave shit lives behind. But there are lots of things that define them. How they act, the way they treat people they care about. Daisy lives wel off dirty money. The minute she entered Indy’s life Lee investigated her and she’s had more bumps than most, enough for her to deserve to live wel .
She’s a good person and she isn’t involved in Marcus’s business. He’s got legitimate shit running alongside his other concerns. Both sides are lucrative. He used to work for whatever he got out of it. Now he works for her. There’s beauty in that and it isn’t for you to judge.”
“But –”
“Jules, it isn’t for you to judge.”
“I disagree.”
“You pul out of that gang you strike a blow to a good woman who’s taken to carin’ about you because you think you’re too good for her. What does that say about you?” What he said gave me pause. Pizza, footbal and facials gave me pause. Daisy taking Clarice shopping and hanging out with her at King’s gave me pause.
“Shit,” I whispered and my eyes slid to the side, away from Luke.
His hand came to my neck, thumb at my jaw and my eyes slid back.
He wasn’t looking at me like he was swinging toward disappointed. Now his eyes were warm with approval and something else.
“Now that you worked that out, somethin’ else you should know,” he said.
Uh-oh.
“Luke –”
“Vance is a friend, has been for awhile. I like him. I respect him. He’s good at what he does and I know he has my back. He knows I have his.”
This, I thought, was good.
“I get the barest, fuckin’ inkling he’s fuckin’ you around, I’m there.”
This, I thought, was not good.
“I’m in love with him,” I blurted.
Now why did I say that? I hadn’t even told Vance that. I wasn’t even going to tel Vance that. Not until he told me. I wasn’t going to be out on the limb like Jet was with Eddie for months or for forever, worried about painting bathrooms for months or for forever, worried about painting bathrooms purple or… whatever.
No way.
“I know you are,” Luke said.
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