Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“I’m glad he’s okay,” Kick said.
“Kids’ll turn your hair white,” Ricky warned, waving at the streaks starting to weave through his hair at the temples. “You planning on having any?”
“Oh, I haven’t really given that a lot of thought,” Kick admitted.
“Eh, you’re young still. Good to get all the crazy out before you settle down. The kids will take up that mantle in due time. Yo, Marcus, you owe me fifty bucks on that game last night,” Ricky called as another employee came in the front door. “Can you believe that shit?” he asked, the two men starting to talk about the game as Kick tried to busy herself, doing everything she could, it seemed, to avoid looking at me.
“How’s the finger feeling?” I asked.
“It’s okay. I had a hell of a time trying to wash my hair one-handed this morning, but the splint definitely helps avoid hitting it too much. Though, Evander has taken it as a personal attack against him.”
“That cat’s a piece of work.”
“He definitely has a lot of character,” she agreed. And, again, the light that grew got tamped down by a strange sadness.
“Did you get some sleep?” I asked.
“Some,” she said, but the bags under her eyes told a different story.
“Hey,” I said, moving closer, towering over her. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“What?” she squeaked. “Nothing,” she insisted, but it took a second for her eyes not to seem so wide and worried.
“Babe, come on…”
“I’m just all off because of the insomnia,” she said, shrugging it off.
I wanted to press.
But the other workers were filing in. And, well, trying to get information out of a woman who didn’t want to give it to me wasn’t exactly a skill in my wheelhouse.
“You need anything from me?” I asked as I passed Ricky.
“Nah, man. This is a well-oiled machine.”
“Alright. I’ll be back later. One of my guys will be out front if anything seems fishy.”
With that, I headed out, thinking that with a little space, I might think about Kick less.
Which, of course, backfired.
Leading me back to the meat shop right at closing time, intent on finishing what we started in my office, figuring that if we finally acted on the need between us, maybe we could put all of this behind us and get back to normal.
Before I could even go in, though, I saw her coming out of the front door with Marcus, who turned to lock the door then pull down the security gate.
“See ya’,” Marcus said to Kick before turning to walk off in the opposite direction.
I shook my head, annoyed that he hadn’t offered to walk her home. Even if, prior to things getting less than professional between us, I hadn’t exactly offered to see her home at night either.
I was a few feet away. She hadn’t spotted me yet. So I got to watch as she pulled her hood up against the cold wind whipping down the streets then looked side to side. Almost as if she was looking for someone, expecting someone.
The jealousy reared up, sudden and unexpected, a twisting, burning sensation in the gut as I imagined some other guy walking her home, going into her apartment with her, taking her to bed.
Before I realized, a low, almost growling sound escaped me, making Kick’s head whip in my direction.
Where I was standing, I must have been cast in shadow, because I watched as her posture went stiff, then she turned, and started to power walk away.
“Kick!” I called, jogging toward her. “Wait up.”
“Rico?” she asked, her hand flying to her chest as she turned back toward me.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I said. “Gonna walk you home,” I said. Then I saw her face fall. “You have other plans?” I asked, bothered more than I should have been at her reaction.
“No,” she said, shaking off the look. “No, of course not. Okay. Thanks.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kick
I did have other plans.
Big plans, actually.
Because I was pretty sure I had a lead on Kyle and his guys.
When I’d gotten home the night before after what happened in the office, I hadn’t been able to sleep; my mind was too occupied with thoughts of Rico.
Instead, I’d gone back to my research. The stuff I’d started before Kyle had turned up and told me that my brother wasn’t missing at all, but held hostage.
And I was pretty sure I found a connection between some of the robberies and a general location in the Bronx.
When I’d really connected all the dots on my map, they all made this big rectangle. Almost like whomever was doing them was actively trying to avoid doing robberies in the area in the center.
Which, I felt like I’d heard in a bunch of primetime crime dramas, likely meant that the perpetrators likely lived in that area.
Or, at least, that was the theory I was working with. And after work, I was going to go to that area and start looking around, see if I saw Kyle or that other guy.