AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m impressed,” I manage to get out. “How long have you been hiding out in this place?”
Bill rubs a hand over his belly, sliding it beneath his shirt to rub his skin. “A couple of years. Figured it would be a good place to hide out if the apocalypse hits. Got a few stores nearby, tapped into well water instead of city water…I’m golden.”
“It’s perfect,” Aria adds.
Half a second later, a squeal greets me before a body propels itself out of the corner and into my arms.
“Dev! I’m so glad you’re safe. Are you safe? How are you? Oh my gosh!”
Naomi. Her signature vanilla and cinnamon body lotion burns the inside of my nostrils.
I catch sight of Aria’s pinched and pissed-off face before I manage to peel my partner off of me. She grips my face in both her hands, gaze scouring me from top to bottom and taking in the hole in my jacket almost immediately.
“I was so worried about you. You’ve been hit?” She punches my other arm. “You told me you were fine!”
Wrapping my hands around her wrists, I push her away and hold her at a distance, her concern appreciated but not necessary. “I am fine,” I assure her.
“He loves that word,” Aria quips. “One of his favorites.”
Naomi turns to Aria with questions written in every line of her posture. “Aria Darkling, right? We found your car at the scene.”
“Aria is a little upset with me because I’m a man of few words, andfineis one of them. But I learned it from her.” I make the introductions, sending Naomi in Aria’s direction for the two of them to shake hands. “Bill is the one who met us at the door, and his cohort Adam is somewhere around.”
“Jasleen is in the bathroom, too.” Naomi and Aria stand front to front, my partner an imposing presence and Aria even more so despite the differences in their height. “You want to talk about trust? You brought in a person who is suspected of close contact with our perp, Dev.”
“I didn’t know we were going to have a catfight on our hands.” Bill stares at us over the back of the couch, smirking and licking his lips. “This could be fun.Excellent.”
“Didn’t realize we were going to be stuck in an eighties movie, either, despite your fabulous taste in Funko Pops,” Aria wisecracks, shifting the focus off of her reputation to the decor.
My need to intervene dissipates as the seconds tick by. She’s got this. She can handle herself. Her fingers might tap out a rhythm on an invisible keyboard at her side, but otherwise, she gives no indication of her discomfort.
“Bill and Ted happen to be my heroes, and anyone who can appreciate my collection is a friend of mine.” Bill is completely won over with stars dancing in his eyes, and in a snap, he’s Aria’s creature to the core.
Naomi deflates at their interaction, looking to me to see where I stand and seeing me immobile, backing down.
Jasleen joins us a second later, Adam right after, and just like that, the Scooby Gang has assembled again. My stomach rumbles, and Jasleen, reading my cues, heads to the kitchen to pour some coffee.
“He’s got snacks here, too. Don’t let him fool you. Big man thinks he's going to keep them all for himself,” she says. “He’s got enough to feed an army.”
Aria trails her fingers along the edge of the bookshelf. “Is this where you come to jack off to your collection?”
“Exactly.” Bill points a finger at Aria’s ass. “This one is on it, isn’t she?”
“She is. And the more time we waste, the more time people have to pile evidence on us.” My knees quake, the weight of holding up me and my guilt too much to handle, and I sink down into one of the reclines. On edge but unable to stand any longer.
Adam joins Bill on the couch. “Naomi tells us you’ve got the missing piece to our takedown of the Syndicate? What have you brought us, buddy?”
“I’ve got new information for you. Things this one over here may or may not be willing to tell you. I’m hoping she’s comfortable enough with me to trust the rest of you.”
My words hold a warning for them not to talk shit.
A stretch, yes, to trust them, as anyone in this room might be reporting back to the precinct or to other sources. Yet here we are, and Aria might be uncomfortable, but she knows her way around a group; I’ll give her that. It’s a transformation, a mask she slips into place. A performance like anything else.
Rather than shutting her down to save her from any discomfort, I nod to her. “Go ahead.”
She starts talking even though she’s clutching a Funko doll of Dean Winchester in her hands as if he knows all the answers and comes with an edible slice of pie to calm her nerves.
Her story comes out in spits and spats, not the one she told me but a variation with only the need-to-know tidbits and not a hint of her backstory. She tells the rest of them about Broderick, what she knows, what he’s planning to do, and his next target.
