present themselves to me all at once, giving me an instant headache. Will he see Sloane and recognize her? Eli, the P.I. I killed must have shown him photos of her for him to have bid so fucking high on some random girl’s virginity. Will he fucking behave himself? Will he do something that my temper just won’t tolerate?
Alongside all of that are the small advantages that present themselves, too, though. If Rebel is here, Julio’s gonna be on his best fucking behavior. He’s gonna be distracted, trying to shove his nose so far up Rebel’s ass that he won’t be paying attention to me. Or Sloane. Or a prize hooker being snuck out of the place. Plus…I’ve never met Rebel. I’ve only heard his name spoken amongst the bike gangs and the cartels, whispered like the man’s a fucking god or something. This is a prime opportunity to meet the guy and see what he’s like for myself. To put a face to the name. And commit it to memory for later so I can beat him to death, should the need arise.
“You listening to me, man?” Michael’s already downed his beer, and is holding out a fresh one to me, too. “I thought you were leaving Lace with the doctor? Where is she?”
“Oh. With Sloane’s parents.” I pull on my beer, mulling that one over. The whole thing is kind of ironic. And worrying.
“Aren’t they super religious?”
“Yeah. Her dad’s a minister. Doesn’t get more religious than that.”
Michael smiles politely, although I can tell the fucker’s grinning on the inside. “And do they know about Lacey’s girl-on-girl tendencies? Or the fact that she’s dead set on killing herself at the earliest available opportunity?”
A volt of panic charges through me at his last question. Lacey may have taken to playing with the odd girl here and there, but she’s not a lesbian. It wouldn’t matter to me if she was—eating pussy’s addictive. I can see why chicks like it—but the real reason Lacey’s toying with the fairer sex of late is because she’s afraid. Afraid of guys. Women are softer, kinder, gentler. There’ll come a time when Lace’ll get over that, though. Or at least I’m hoping there will. That’s got a lot to do with the other thing. The dying thing. Sloane may have told her parents to watch Lace like a hawk, but they can’t really understand how messed up the girl is. They don’t know her like I do. They don’t know the level of commitment she’s dedicated to the cause of her own demise. I need to fucking speak to Sloane. I need to speak to Sloane’s fucking dad. If she dies on his watch…
Michael brings me back from thoughts of murder. “Does Sloane have a problem with Lacey?”
That’s a weird fucking question. I was going to drink some beer, but the bottle only makes it halfway to my lips. “What? No. Why would she?”
This has Michael chuckling, shaking his head. “You’re clueless, boss. You’re fucking Sloane, yet you’re so protective over Lacey. The doc’s gonna assume you’re fucking her, too. Or that you used to fuck her.”
I love Michael like a brother, but sometimes he’s a stupid shit. “Sloane doesn’t care about my exes. She probably wouldn’t care if I was fucking Lacey. She’s not that kind of girl. All she cares about is finding her sister. I’m a means to an end.”
Michael looks at me like I’m the stupid shit. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Well, she’s not asked me for anything.” And they all ask me for something. A phone number; a second date; a marriage proposal. Sloane’s repeatedly asked me to get the hell out of her life, or may as well have done.
Michael reaches over and slaps me on the back. He looks oddly bemused. “If you believe that, my dear friend, you’re the dumbest motherfucker alive.”
******
I haven’t found anywhere else to sleep. I really, really should, but I haven’t. I’m waiting for her when she comes back from her pyjama party with Julio’s girls. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me sitting at the
Alongside all of that are the small advantages that present themselves, too, though. If Rebel is here, Julio’s gonna be on his best fucking behavior. He’s gonna be distracted, trying to shove his nose so far up Rebel’s ass that he won’t be paying attention to me. Or Sloane. Or a prize hooker being snuck out of the place. Plus…I’ve never met Rebel. I’ve only heard his name spoken amongst the bike gangs and the cartels, whispered like the man’s a fucking god or something. This is a prime opportunity to meet the guy and see what he’s like for myself. To put a face to the name. And commit it to memory for later so I can beat him to death, should the need arise.
“You listening to me, man?” Michael’s already downed his beer, and is holding out a fresh one to me, too. “I thought you were leaving Lace with the doctor? Where is she?”
“Oh. With Sloane’s parents.” I pull on my beer, mulling that one over. The whole thing is kind of ironic. And worrying.
“Aren’t they super religious?”
“Yeah. Her dad’s a minister. Doesn’t get more religious than that.”
Michael smiles politely, although I can tell the fucker’s grinning on the inside. “And do they know about Lacey’s girl-on-girl tendencies? Or the fact that she’s dead set on killing herself at the earliest available opportunity?”
A volt of panic charges through me at his last question. Lacey may have taken to playing with the odd girl here and there, but she’s not a lesbian. It wouldn’t matter to me if she was—eating pussy’s addictive. I can see why chicks like it—but the real reason Lacey’s toying with the fairer sex of late is because she’s afraid. Afraid of guys. Women are softer, kinder, gentler. There’ll come a time when Lace’ll get over that, though. Or at least I’m hoping there will. That’s got a lot to do with the other thing. The dying thing. Sloane may have told her parents to watch Lace like a hawk, but they can’t really understand how messed up the girl is. They don’t know her like I do. They don’t know the level of commitment she’s dedicated to the cause of her own demise. I need to fucking speak to Sloane. I need to speak to Sloane’s fucking dad. If she dies on his watch…
Michael brings me back from thoughts of murder. “Does Sloane have a problem with Lacey?”
That’s a weird fucking question. I was going to drink some beer, but the bottle only makes it halfway to my lips. “What? No. Why would she?”
This has Michael chuckling, shaking his head. “You’re clueless, boss. You’re fucking Sloane, yet you’re so protective over Lacey. The doc’s gonna assume you’re fucking her, too. Or that you used to fuck her.”
I love Michael like a brother, but sometimes he’s a stupid shit. “Sloane doesn’t care about my exes. She probably wouldn’t care if I was fucking Lacey. She’s not that kind of girl. All she cares about is finding her sister. I’m a means to an end.”
Michael looks at me like I’m the stupid shit. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Well, she’s not asked me for anything.” And they all ask me for something. A phone number; a second date; a marriage proposal. Sloane’s repeatedly asked me to get the hell out of her life, or may as well have done.
Michael reaches over and slaps me on the back. He looks oddly bemused. “If you believe that, my dear friend, you’re the dumbest motherfucker alive.”
******
I haven’t found anywhere else to sleep. I really, really should, but I haven’t. I’m waiting for her when she comes back from her pyjama party with Julio’s girls. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me sitting at the
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