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"You showed up at the door soaking wet in a rainstorm screaming your head off while being chased by a bunch of men. I think that defines distress, Savvs."
"Well, I wasn't in distress last night."
"If you weren't in distress, you would be in your house, leaky roof and all. You wouldn't need an armed guard when you go to work."
"You're armed?" I asked, brows furrowing.
It wasn't like I didn't know that the Rivers brothers knew about guns, but being so close to them, it was quite frankly hard to imagine them handling them.
"I am under strict instructions to keep you safe. By any means necessary." His hand patted his side where there must have been a holster, well hidden under his loose lightweight black hoodie. "So what else is there to do?"
"Just put back the cats in the back. And wait for the Millers to pick up their birds."
"Alright. You do that. I'll sweep."
An hour later, we were parked out back of Kingston's apartment.
"Is Nixon in the office?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I was just thinking I could maybe hang there, help out. The walls will close in on me in the apartment if I'm alone all day."
"Don't think it'll be a problem," he decided, getting out, bringing Padfoot with him.
"Thank Christ," Nixon hissed when we walked in the door. "Someone needs to do something about the beast."
As if on cue, Hannibal came charging out of a back room, barreling toward Rush, hitting him bodily, knocking his solid frame back a foot.
"Nixon, sorry. I totally forgot. I got such a late start this morning. And this one," I said, jerking my thumb toward his brother, "was messing around at the store."
"Did he put the spider on you?" he asked, pretending to be holding back a smile. Badly, I might add.
"It's a tarantula. And no. But he did chase me around with it."
"He once chased Scotti through the house with a cockroach."
"That might even be worse," I decided. In the hierarchy of disgusting bugs, cockroaches were really close to the top.
"Put a frog in her bed with her," Nixon went on. "A hundred-legger on her shower towel."
"Where was your mother?" I asked, outraged on her poor behalf.
"This was after mom passed. When we were all shacked up at King's place."
"Please tell me she got back at him in some small way."
"Small? Not so much. She replaced his shampoo with Nair. He never fucked with her again after that," he told me with a smirk at the fond memory of his little brother finally getting what was coming to him. "Pretty boy had to be bald for weeks," he added, jerking his chin to the man in question as he approached. "How'd it go? See anyone?"
"Nothing," Rush said, shrugging it off as Hannibal turned his boisterous attention onto Padfoot - a willing recipient of it.
"Could you even stop to pay attention with all the fucking around?" Nixon asked, the accusation heavy.
But Rush, likely used to it from all his older brothers, seemed wholly unaffected. "Pretty sure I wouldn't miss a bunch of bad guys storming into the store while we fed and cleaned up after the animals," he countered. "And you know that I - of all people - know how to tell if I am being tailed. And how to lose one if I got one."
In their little family enterprise of less-than-legal action, Rush had been the wheel man. He was retired, sure, but I was pretty sure there was no losing those types of instincts.
"What?" I asked, watching the way they both swapped looks, having a silent conversation, the type best friends - or brothers, it seemed - could have, wholly without words.
"Just thinking."
"Think out loud," I suggested, looking between them both, settling on Rush who seemed like an easier target.
I should have guessed his instinct of protection was stronger than Nixon's feeling that everyone was entitled to the cold, harsh truth.
"Harry skipped town," Nixon informed me. "They should be looking to track you down in the hopes of getting to him. It's weird that no one has seen anyone."
"I didn't imagine it."
"Obviously," he shot back, rolling his eyes. Nixon had, in my humble opinion, the most epic of eye rolls. They somehow conveyed that you're an idiot, you're trying his patience, and no one has ever uttered something quite as ridiculous as you did ever before... all at the same time. "We found his blood, remember?" he added.
Right.
Duh.
Of course they weren't accusing me of making it up for attention or something like that. They were just trying to piece together what happened, what might happen, what all this meant.
Maybe Kingston was having better luck than they were. I could hope, at least. While, sure, it was nice to be away from the stresses of having to keep a very strict, often very demanding schedule. I would eventually start going stir crazy.
