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“I heard some, but not to do with me being here.”
“So, Karlee?”
“A precaution,” he says.
It’s a slight amendment, but I let it slide.
“She escaped through the kitchen window.”
He stares at me a moment, then laughs. “Karlee isn’t one to sit quietly. Way too independent. But she tries.”
“It’s almost spring break. I can arrange a trip for her.”
“No. No, not a good idea.”
Shit, she has to stay in town, and I can hazard a guess why.
She’s a sort of collateral.
We talk a little longer, but I’m only half in the conversation. Whoever Fallon took the fall for to protect, he isn’t giving up.
I drive to my next meeting, someone desperate to do a fucking favor for the De Lucas and me, Nicolo and Diego inparticular, since we hold his fate and wellbeing in our hands. It’s a bit of a drive, and the traffic is bordering on annoying, so I let my brain drift to what Fallon said and didn’t say.
It’s a hell of a lot safer than thinking about the kiss with Karlee. When she?—
I grip the wheel tightly.
There’s definitely something Fallon has, something that might be in Karlee’s things, and something that I think only he knows what to look for. Hidden in plain sight is a particular Fallon skill.
But whoever’s looking might not know he has anything. I’m leaning toward this weird Genesis and Smith Group. The gang he got into, to the point of a fucking tattoo, would have been a way in to whatever he was looking into. And not taking Karlee away? I’m betting that might put her life in actual danger.
I’ve got a whole lot of maybes and what-ifs.
“Precaution,” I mutter, hitting the indicator and turning. “He said fucking precaution.”
Karlee’s under some kind of threat.
Now, all I need to do is find out what.
Fuck.
Johnny the Hamster gives hamsters a bad rap, but I lean back at the bar, a no man’s land pocket of Dallas, as a girl shakes her wares on the pole.
His eyes are sliding all over her as he gulps back beer, and I barely contain my revulsion.
Do these low-lives have anything better to do than hang out all day at cheap strip joints?
I tap a coaster on the sticky bar, kind of shocked this place has coasters. “Johnny?”
“Yeah.”
“Fucking look at me when I speak to you.”
Even in the low light, the color visibly drains from his face. “Sorry.”
“I asked about new activity.”
He shifts in his seat, and I take it as a yes. “Who?”
