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Greyson and I had been co-captains all throughout high school. Both used to being the top dogs.
If I was honest with myself, it had been strange when he hadn’t been there anymore to help shoulder the load.
Sometimes it still felt strange.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked, when he hadn’t offered anything ten minutes later. We were in the warehouse district, a place I didn’t make a habit of frequenting when I had the choice. The streets were lined with towering structures of rusted steel and crumbling brick. Shadows danced along the graffiti-covered walls, casting eerie shapes in the dim light of the flickering street lamps.
“Sunny found a lead...supposedly. He traced some of the messages we’ve been receiving to this number. I doubt he’s the one behind anything since he was dumb enough to send messages outside of a burner phone, but I’m hoping he has some information. With the baby coming…”
My eyes went bug-eyed at what he’d just said, and he grinned, because the bastard knew he’d just dropped a veritable bomb on me.
“She’s pregnant?” I whispered, the words coming out rough and choked. The thought of Kennedy pregnant with my baby...withourbaby...fuck.
“Hold your hard-on,Cameron, it’s not for sure yet. I just think she is...she was craving pickles.”
I scoffed, and adjusted myself because, okay...I may have gotten slightly hard at the idea of her pregnant. But obviously that was for nothing.
“Pickles?” I asked sarcastically. “You’re thinking she’s pregnant based on pickles.”
“Has Kennedy ever asked for pickles before, at any point in the countless number of games she’s attended since we were teenagers?” he asked pointedly as he pulled in behind a particularly decrepit looking warehouse.
I thought about it. I could not remember a single pickle in her past. She even picked the pickles off her chicken sandwiches—which was honestly a travesty because everyone knew that chicken sandwiches needed pickles.
“Huh,” I muttered. “You might be onto something.”
His answering smile was entirely too smug. “I think that I am.” We hopped out of the car and I followed Greyson to the gray, metal back door that looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to it. “Her period is in a few days though. So, we’ll know for sure.”
“Youwouldknow that.”
His grin this time was positively giddy. “Kennedy’s the horniest on her period. You think I’m going to miss out and have meetings that interfere with that?”
Fuck.
The man might be a genius.
I resolved to pay closer attention to that as well. Get a few more “dibs” in on those nights.
A bulking giant of a man opened the door and nodded respectfully at Greyson. He stepped towards me and Greyson held up a hand.
“He’s fine, Tapper,” Greyson murmured, and “Tapper” nodded again and stepped back into the shadowed interior of the building.
I was honestly a bit shocked he hadn’t had me frisked just for fun.
The pickle had gotten to him.
We walked inside, our footsteps echoing off the empty walls like whispers in the darkness. Dust motes danced in the faint shafts of light filtering through broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the cold concrete floor. Ahead, a set of stairs beckoned, their descent into the depths below shrouded in darkness.
Greyson headed to the stairs, because of course, where else would we be going…
I followed Greyson down, my footsteps echoing against the concrete walls as we descended into the darkness below.
The air was cold and damp, heavy with the stench of fear and desperation.
“Is this where you kill me?” I whispered mockingly.
He stopped and glanced back at me over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow sarcastically—if that was really a thing.
Greyson’s second, Sunny, was leaning against one of the walls as we entered the room, staring at the piece of shit in front of us. He gave us a head nod as we walked in.
