Page 29 of Shattered Pieces

My first twenty-four hours hadn’t been too bad, but it was definitely going to be a long week.

Hunter

“Motherfucker!” I barked, tossing my new phone on my desk with a scowl. The warehouse had been quiet tonight, most of the guys out on jobs and leaving me and Marco to catch up on paperwork. Marco had slept most of the day, so it had mostly been me working, but I didn’t care.

“What’s up?” Marco asked from his desk, his chin on his chest and his eyes closed.

“Aurora got put in the fucking hole last night. She’s in there for a week for assault. They’ve canceled her visitations.”

He chuckled, cracking an eye open to look at me. “I’m surprised it took her four days.”

“Not helpful,” I sighed, getting to my feet. “I need to get in there, man.”

“Good luck. She’s going to end up straight back in the hole when she gets put back in general. She can’t keep her fists to herself on a good day.”

“I’ll have to reschedule for next Tuesday.”

“Okay, but you’ll only get it canceled again,” he joked, stretching his arms above his head. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“You slept all day.”

“Going to sleep all night too. I got shot, you know?” he grinned, milking it like he always did. “You should give me the week off to recover.”

“You can recover just fine at your desk where I can keep an eye on you,” I grunted, and he rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, have a heart. I’m injured.”

“My body’s on fire from skidding across the road and hitting a fence, but you don’t see me needing a rest,” I answered, grabbing my things. “Besides, you have to handle fight night stuff.”

“Why can’t Hammer do it?”

“You’ve got to stop hanging around Ty. You’re turning into a whiney, privileged prick. You never usually take time off when injured,” I deadpanned, and he flipped me off.

“I’m getting old, things change.”

“Twenty-one is hardly old.”

“Yeah, but I feel a hundred in dog years,” he complained, following me down from the loft to the bar. Faris was having a beer, nursing a black eye from an altercation with one of the Reapers earlier, and any other day I would have been on his side, but he’d started shit with Milky, so that was on him.

“I almost had him,” he grumbled, making me snort.

“Sure, you did.”

Milky was a good fighter, it was one of the reasons he worked the bar so much. If anyone gave him trouble, he threw them out himself.

“You guys heading home?” he asked, glancing between us.

“Not yet. Mark’s got fight night shit to organize, and I still have some things to look into for Rory. I have to find out who the witness is,” I stated, eyeing Marco as he wandered off to talk to Hammer, who was sparring in the cage with Dom.

“Is she doing okay?” Faris asked, making me scoff.

“She’s gotten herself thrown in the hole, but I think she’s okay. Why?”

“I was just asking. It’s weird without her around now,” he chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes, his hands coming up. “Hey, I’m not moving in on her.”

“I’d slit your throat.”

“Very aware,” he said with a small grin. “Are we going to war with the Psychos over this?”