The four of them fell silent until Hawk said, “What about Emma?”
Emma was the manager of the club’s strip bar, Dream House, and she was Danny’s old lady. She had been a hoodrat for years before hooking up with him. She didn’t put up with any bullshit. Emma had also been a meth user about eight years before, so she could play the part well.
Banger nodded. “That may work. I’ll talk to Emma and Danny. If they’re good with it, we’ll take a vote tomorrow. Then we’ll get ready to smash some skulls.”
The following day, the vote came in unanimous. Emma and Danny had agreed to the setup the previous night when Banger had paid them a visit. Axe contacted Rodney to confirm the Sunday night buy. All the brothers had to do was wait and make sure their weapons were in order.
Chapter Fifteen
Every time Rickysaw Kylie, he’d get excited, and he went out of his way to talk and spend time with her. He thought about her too much, and if he didn’t see her or speak with her, his day would seem pointless. He liked her a whole lot and was more than dismayed that she didn’t return the sentiment.
Each time he tried to take their friendship to a different level, she’d give him one of her smiles that made his pants tight, and then remind him that they were really good friends. Problem was he didn’t feel like a friend anymore; he wanted much more from her, but she kept rebuffing him. Ricky knew she had the hots for the muscle man who’d shown up to the spring festival just by chance. He never believed that flimsy story, but from the way Kylie looked at the biker and the way he looked at her, he knew it’d be a long haul to steer her away from the tatted guy and over to him.
How could he compete? The guy lived in Pinewood Springs and could see Kylie every day. Ricky lived in Denver, a good three-hour drive away. And he was almost positive she’d slept with him the previous weekend. He’d asked his buddy, Jonas, to keep an eye on Kylie while he was in Vegas. When he came back, Jonas told him a tough-looking guy in leather, denim, chains, and tats spent the weekend in her room. It was like Jonas had shoved him into a brick wall. He was crushed and jealous that the badass had a love session with her, and he, the nice guy, only had a friendship.
Shaking his head, he realized he was doingitagain: thinking about her. He rushed across the street to Lot C, swearing he was done with all that for the rest of the day. A dentist was waiting to fill a couple of cavities, and he was already running late. He hated parking in Lot C; it was too far when he was in a hurry. The night before, he’d come back to campus too late and the other lots had been full, so he’d had to park in No Man’s Land.
As he approached his car, his face fell and he groaned: the rear passenger’s tire was flat. He didn’t need this. Now he’d never make his appointment. With his remote in hand, he pressed open the trunk and rummaged through it, retrieving the jack then rolling out a spare tire.
Upon closer examination, Ricky realized the tire hadn’t gone flat on its own—it’d been slashed. Standing up, he looked at the other cars to see if any other tires had befallen the same fate. He spotted a few. Figuring someone had gotten his jollies by vandalizing the cars, he crouched down and began to loosen the lug nuts.
Faint music punctuated the stillness of the afternoon. A warm, dry breeze curled around him as he cursed under his breath. Concentrating on placing the jack in the right spot on his car, he wasn’t aware of thumping bass and hard, loud beats until they were almost right on him. Ricky tilted his head up and saw a purple Corvette slowly cruising the lot. Relief washed over his face and he rose to his feet and waved the car over. The sports car stopped in front of him, heat emanating from the engine.
“What’s wrong?” a guy with a baseball cap pulled low asked.
Ricky noticed the driver had on a pair of gold-framed sunglasses with mirrored lenses. They looked like something people would’ve worn in the 1970s. “Someone slashed my tire.”
“That sucks. Need some help changing it?”
Ricky glanced at the time on his watch. “Damn, I’m going to miss my dental appointment.” The dull ache in his mouth reminded him that he couldn’t concentrate for finals without having his cavities filled. “I was getting ready to change the tire, but I really have to keep my appointment. What year are you?”
“I’m a senior. Where’s your dentist at?”
“On Thirteenth and Washington.”
“I’m going right by there. I can give you a lift, if you want.”
Ricky beamed. “Cool. That’s a big help. Let me just put the spare and jack away. I’ll deal with it when I get back.”
A couple minutes later, he was settled into the passenger seat of the Corvette. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the ride.”
“No worries,” the driver said as he looped around the parking lot. “You have a ride back?”
“I’m texting a friend right now.” Ricky looked down at his phone.
Kylie:Hey.
Ricky:Hey. Can I impose on u? I need a ride back to campus. My tire was flat and I got a ride from a senior to my dentist. U cool with picking me up?
Kylie:What time?
Ricky:Bout 4:30.
Kylie:Sure. Where?
Ricky:1340 Washington St. On the west side. Brick building. Second floor.
Kylie:Got it. Be brave.;)
