Page 15 of Deja Brew


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But that was insane.

“Fine. It’s your funeral,” I said, moving to unlock the back door. “For the record, it’s going to be mine too,” I added, looking at him as we moved out of the back door.

“And yet… I’m not fucking scared,” he said, shrugging it off as he walked over toward his SUV.

Normally, getting into a strange man’s vehicle and going to a strange man’s house was, you know, about the stupidest thing a woman could do. Especially without anyone knowing where you were going.

In these circumstances, though, it was probably the safest place for me to go.

CHAPTER FOUR

Shale

Junior didn’t live far away, but he hadn’t been kidding about knowing how to lose a tail, because he drove us all around for over half an hour before circling back and parking in front of a building that at one time must have served as a warehouse of some sort, given the big, ancient windows and the industrial look of the build.

“Come on,” Junior said, fingers touching my lower back when I stood on the sidewalk staring up at the building.

Pretending the feel of his fingers at my back didn’t create more of those little sparks I’d felt earlier, I moved inside with him, riding up the oversized freight elevator to the top floor that let off into a long, narrow hallway. With only one door.

He had the whole top floor.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been impressed.

But nothing was cheap in Navesink Bank. Just your average one-bedroom was practically out of the budget for most people on a normal salary. So having an entire floor of a building? That meant Junior was loaded.

I guess hacking paid well.

Junior walked to his door, punching in a long code, then opening the door and ushering me inside.

Where there was the slapping of someone’s slippers on the floor. And a man coming over with a pint of ice cream in his hand.

“Junior, I’ve got… oh,” he said, stopping short when he saw me.

This was the friend Junior was talking about?

He… didn’t seem to match Junior.

I mean, not that all friends matched. But I couldn’t see Junior hanging out with this guy with his shaggy hair and puppy dog face. I mean, he still had some acne on his chin. He had to be almost ten years younger than Junior.

“Oh, am I interrupting?” the guy asked, wiggling his eyebrows in such a cringy way that I felt embarrassed for him.

“Barry, shut up,” Junior said in this frustrated older brother kind of way that seemed to in no way bother Barry who plunged his spoon into his ice cream, and brought it to his lips.

“If you’re not hooking up, what’s she here for?” Barry asked.

“Do you live here?” I asked.

“Sort of,” Barry said.

“Fuck no,” Junior said at almost the same time. “He’s not supposed to be here,” he added. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeated to Barry. “I’m back in town. I don’t need you house-sitting anymore. Go home.”

“We’re supposed to talk,” Barry said. “About my, you know, experience,” he added, voice low.

“Congrats on getting laid,” I said, watching his eyes go round, and Junior’s lips twitched. “Big life event.”

“Well, no, not really,” Barry said, stabbing his spoon back into the ice cream.

“You struck out?” Junior asked. “Did you fucking bring up vintage video games? I told you to stop doing that shit,” he added.

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