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“Kurt’s my ex,” Jazz lied. “Dated for a few weeks—wasn’t serious. He wanted it to be more serious and he comes around every now and again.”
Duke frowned. “He’s bothering you?”
“No.” Jazz bit her lip, realizing she was speaking to a protective man. “He’s just hoping I’ll give him another shot.”
Duke looked confused. “What does your ex have to do with your business van? Is he the reason you keep moving it every day?”
I looked at Jazz, who looked at me.
Thankfully, Duke’s phone rang, pulling his attention away from us for a moment.
Jazz let out a slow exhale and then quickly hastened to her car while Duke answered his phone. He put the cell to his ear. “Yeah?” He paused and then he shook his head. “Yeah. I’ll be right there. Don’t do anything. Don’t move. I’ve got you.”
He hung up and shoved his phone into his leather cut. “I’ve got to go.”
“Everything okay?” I asked even though it was clear it wasn’t.
“Waverly’s got herself into a bit of a situation. She’s afraid to call Willa, so she called me.”
“Is she in danger?” I asked, concerned for the feisty teenager.
“She’s safe. Skipped school.” Duke rubbed the back of his neck. “She was with some older kids. Some punks that go looking for trouble.”
“Go,” I said.
“Do me a favor—don’t tell Willa. I’ll tell her once I have Waverly safe.”
I nodded. “Sure thing.”
He lowered his sunglasses onto his nose and then got on his bike. I climbed into my car and started the engine. Duke rolled out of the parking lot first and then I followed.
My phone rang on the drive home. I pressed a button on my car’s stereo to answer. “Hi.”
“What, you don’t respond to my texts anymore?” Slash demanded.
I grinned even though he couldn’t see me. “I was busy.”
“Are you busy now?”
“I’m driving home.”
“Call me when you get home. I don’t like you driving while you’re on your phone.”
“I’m not on my phone. It’s called Bluetooth, Slash. Hands free.”
“I’m not a dinosaur. I’ve heard of Bluetooth. Pay attention to the road, Brooklyn.”
He hung up.
“Bastard,” I said with a laugh.
I got home and as I was walking into the house, I called him.
“You’re home? You’re not driving?”
“I’m home.”
“Good.”
