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He got released about a year ago, and he said if there was anything I ever needed, he’d find a way to help me. I’m the one who helped him by telling him to see Lance for a job.
Lance can get information. He and his dad are bona fide hackers hiding behind a tat parlor. It’s the perfect cover-up. Who the hell thinks a couple tattoo artists know anything about computers?
I walk into the tat shop at ten in the morning. Tommy’s there, manning the reception desk.
His eyes widen when he sees me. “Falcon! I heard you got out. How the hell are you?”
Tommy’s a little guy, about five eight, good looking with real fine features. Hence his problem in prison.
Once I got him away from Bruno, I worked with him on getting in shape. He’s muscled now, and frankly, I don’t think anyone would fuck with him if he wound up inside again.
Which he’d better not.
I shake Tommy’s hand. “Doing okay. Is Lance in?”
“In the back. You want me to get him?”
“I’ll go back and talk to him myself.”
I walk behind the counter. “Lance?”
“He might be outside smoking a joint,” Tommy hollers at me.
The more things change…
But I find him coming out of the john. He looks the same—shaggy blond hair and baggy jeans.
“Fuck me,” he says. “Falcon Bellamy. I’ve got to say, between the two of us, I figured I’d be the one doing time.”
“Is that original?” I ask. “Because I keep hearing it everywhere I fucking go around here.”
“No one thinks you had anything to do with that dead cop,” he says. “I sure never did.”
“It’s ancient history,” I say. “I’m here for something else.”
“What’s that?”
“I need some information. On one Savannah Gallo.”
“A woman? Why? She owe you money?”
I close in on him and lower my voice. “Do you need to know the reason?”
He holds up his hands. “Hell, no.”
I back off a bit. “What’ll it cost me?”
“A grand.”
“Good enough. She’s a parole officer up at the county. That’s all I know.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“Great.” I give him my number. “Call me when you have something.”
“Will do.”
I walk back out. “Take it easy, Tommy.”
Tommy walks out from behind the reception desk. “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”
“Uh…it’s ten thirty in the morning.”
He chuckles. “I mean tonight. I owe you so much.”
“You don’t owe me anything, T. Plus, neither one of us should be drinking on parole. Just take it easy.”
“Okay. But anything, Fal. Just ask.”
I nod and leave, and then I drop my jaw.
Savannah Gallo.
Dragging a laundry bag and heading toward Josie’s laundry across the street.
Fuck me.
I don’t yell for her, I simply follow her into the laundromat.
“Hey, Savannah,” I say.
She jerks around.
God, she looks like a dream. A dream with a cherry on top.
Women look so fucking sexy in sweatpants and a tank top. And Savannah? She’s about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Fuck. No bra. Her nipples are protruding through the cotton of the tank, and I want to bite them off.
“Falcon, hi.” She looks at her canvas laundry bag. “Did you get my message?”
“That you had to cancel our meeting? Yeah.”
She blinks a few times. “Oh. Yeah. That too. But I left you a voicemail. It seems you called me?”
“Right. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I thought maybe you were sick.”
“No. Just taking a day. My friend, from the hospital?” She closes her eyes a moment. “She… She passed away.”
Damn.
It hits me like a brick. I’ve been so worried about Raven, who until now has been dying of a rare incurable disease. And a car crash can take a perfectly healthy person out. What a slap in the face with mortality “I’m sorry.”
She nods. “I’m okay. We weren’t super close, and it hit me harder than I expected. How is Raven doing?”
“So far, so good. She’s still weak, but she’s got a lot of color now, and she smiles a lot. She’s feeling stronger.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” She fidgets with her bag. “So…I’m doing laundry.”
I smirk. “Really? I figured you were flying a kite.”
She reddens. And oh God, she’s so beautiful. Her beauty is so unassuming, and because of that it’s absolutely irresistible.
I open the door to the laundry for her. Only a few customers are here today.
“No washer and dryer at your place?” I ask.
“Nope. I’m going to get a set as soon as I can, but I haven’t had the chance.” She walks toward a vacant washer, dumps out her laundry, and begins separating it into two piles.
And I can’t help but notice her bras and panties.
She reddens again. “So…anyway, nice to see you.”
A brush-off.
Nothing less than I deserve.
“You want to get some coffee?”
“I’m busy here,” she says.
“Get your clothes started, and then you’ll have some time while they wash, and we can get a cup.”
She looks at me. Truly looks into me, as if she’s searching for something underneath my exterior.
