Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Mack is headstrong. She does whatever she wants to do. And I guess she thinks she owes me.
She says that we’re friends, whatever that means.
So I know I can count on my friend to help me now.
When she answers, I lay it out for her loud and clear.
“I need a PI.”
“Okay,” she says.
“It needs to stay between us,” I add.
“Alright.”
And that’s that.
I guess maybe friends aren’t so bad. Mack respects my level of impatience. She doesn’t bother with unnecessary questions because she knows I’m testy and unsociable. She doesn’t ask me to change or talk about my feelings or sing Kumbaya. And that’s the kind of person I need in my corner.
But it also makes for awkward conversation because I don’t think she ever really knows what to say to me.
And since I communicate with people only out of sheer necessity, I don’t know what to say to her either.
“Everything alright?” she asks.
“Hunky dory.”
“Cool,” she replies.
The line is quiet for a minute, and then she says, “so Rory, huh?”
“Can’t anyone keep their mouths shut anymore?”
“Crow’s been going on and on about it,” Mack laughs. “Thinks you’ve cooked up some evil plan to fuck with Rory just for fun.”
“Huh.”
“I told him you wouldn’t do that,” Mack says, and her laughter is gone and now she’s all business.
She likes me, but these crazy mafia bastards are her family now. And she doesn’t have a problem letting me or anyone else know it.
“Rory’s been wicked pissy all day anyway,” Mack continues. “So I figured it fizzled out before it even began.”
“There was nothing to fizzle out,” I tell her.
“Right,” she says. “That’s what I told Lach. Exactly.”
Silence again.
Mack’s baby is making weird baby noises in the background and it still freaks me out. I never imagined her as a mother. But I guess she does a good job of it.
“You need to come by and visit with Keeva,” she says. “Let me get a picture of you two. I promise she won’t bite.”
“I’ll stop by sometime,” I lie.
Babies freak me out.
People like Mack… they can adapt. But me, no way. I wouldn’t have the first clue. I mean, you hold them and they cry. You feed them and they cry. You change their diaper and they cry.
The only thing I like to see cry is a grown man after I bring him to his knees.
“You going to the fights tonight?” Mack asks.
“I thought Crow told you not to go to those anymore.”
“Yeah right,” she huffs. “I put the kibosh on that nonsense real quick. Besides, Reaper and Saint are fighting tonight. I gotta be there to support my boys. Cheer em’ on from the sidelines.”
“I didn’t know Rory was fighting,” I say, and my mouth is stupid.
“Oh yeah,” Mack yawns through the speaker. “Mick hurt his shoulder, so Rory’s stepping in. I guess I didn’t think about that. Probably best you don’t come.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well you know…” Mack says casually. “I doubt you want to see him with another girl at the end of the night. Even if you said what you guys had was nothing. I’m just saying, if it was me…”
I know Mack, and I know when she’s baiting me. My head might be onto her, but my mouth isn’t.
“What other girl?” I blurt.
“You know, the guys have this thing where they let a few groupies from the crowd go back to take care of their guy afterwards. It’s like, a Brazilian thing.”
“Oh.” I rap my fingers against the table and stare down at the mountain of paperwork I need to sort through. “Well, it doesn’t matter to me. Like I said.”
“Right,” Mack agrees. “Like you said.”
“I have to go,” I tell her. “I’ve got shit to do.”
“Kay.” There’s a smile in her voice and it annoys me. “I’ll text you the phone number for the PI when we hang up.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“If you do come, I’ll be in the back left corner.”
“I’m not coming.”
“Alright then,” she sings. “See ya.”
Eighteen
Scarlett
She was beautiful - but especially she was without mercy- F. Scott Fitzgerald
Who Rory does or doesn’t spend his time with is no concern of mine.
I’m only here as a spectator, same as everyone else.
To watch him fight and to sober up and get out of my head for a minute so I can get back to work.
That’s all.
I push my way through the crowd and make it a point to avoid Mack. I wore a hat which is fucking ridiculous.
The music is loud, and the crowd is too and then the announcer makes the introductions.
The first guy is Russian, and patriotically enough, his music choice is too. We get his stats, which everyone oohs and ahs over in dramatic fashion. A guy next to me tells his buddy this guy is a fucking legend. His words.
I’m not sweating it.
Rory can handle his shit.