HARDCORE: Storm MC(121)
“Huh. Okay. Well, anyway, if it looks like I'm walkin' funny, it's because I just got fucked good an' hard by Ham-Hock. Sonuvabitch came by the Knife to collect his ten thou. Man, if we get outta this alive, we're gonna need to make some serious scores happen to recoup all that cash. Did you set up the meeting with Christina?”
“Yeah, I'm due at the salon in about fifteen minutes,” Missy said. “I want to have Burger and Matches follow me as backup, just in case. They should stay back a bit, though, so she's not too freaked out by them.”
“No offense taken, in case you were wondering,” Matches drawled, spitting his chewed-up matchstick to one side and replacing it with a fresh one.
Missy rolled her eyes. “She's a civilian, Matches. And she's scared enough as it is.”
Matches raised his eyebrows, but said nothing further.
“So what's the plan for afterward?” Hunter asked.
“I'll go back to Cain's house to check up on him,” Missy said, “and then I'll get in touch with you so we can talk it over and decide what's next.”
“Nah, you don't have to,” said Hunter. “I mean, I told you that you wouldn't have to babysit Cain anymore after meeting with Christina, so...”
“No, it's, um, it's fine,” Missy answered. She'd forgotten that promise from him. “I don't mind. It shouldn't take long anyway.”
Hunter considered this, then nodded. “Fine. But when you're done with Christina, just give me a quick call to let me know you're all right. And no texts, okay? If I hear your voice, I won't have to wonder whether one of Gaspar's guys picked you off and decided to use your phone to fuck with me.” He thought for another moment. “Also, we should have some kind of code word for you to use, just in case they grab you and make you call.”
Missy chuckled. “You're getting pretty paranoid, huh?”
“It ain't paranoia if they're really trying to kill you,” Hunter snickered. “I'm just tryin' to make sure my little sister stays safe. Besides, you always say I don't think things through enough, right?”
“I don't think I've ever said that to you,” Missy replied.
“Naw, I guess not,” Hunter countered, “but I can usually tell when you're thinkin' it.”
Missy smiled. She'd underestimated Hunter, and probably not for the first time. He could be a lot smarter than he seemed when he made the effort.
“Fair enough,” she said. “If I'm on the phone with you and I say 'I love you,' you'll know I'm in trouble and can't talk.”
Hunter barked out a short laugh. “That's a little harsh, ain't it? Yer supposed to choose a code word that's something you wouldn't usually say.”
Missy shook her head. “Nope, that only works in movies. In real life, it'd be a dead giveaway. What word would we use? 'Watermelon?' 'Handkerchief?' 'Casablanca?' Can you really picture me fitting something like that into a call with you without Gaspar figuring out what I was doing? He probably already knows we're keeping our calls short since they're being intercepted. But a sister telling her brother she loves him? No one would suspect that.”
Hunter whistled, impressed. “Wow. You really do have a mind like a damn bear trap. We gotta figure out a way to put it to better use when this shit's over. 'Til then, I guess we gotta put kind of a moratorium on sayin' 'I love you.'”
Missy smiled. “Then we should probably get those out of the way now.” She hugged Hunter tightly. “I love you, big brother.”
Hunter embraced her, and even though his powerful arms felt like they might squeeze her until her liver popped out of her mouth, she didn't mind. “I love you, sis.”
Missy let go and stepped back. “Okay, Burger, Matches, you're with me. We're heading to the salon.” She started to walk away with the two Eagles in tow, then turned back to Hunter again. “Oh, and Hunter?”
“Yeah?”
“When we're on the phone, remember: If I say you're a big, greasy motorhead with a dumb-looking beard, that's not code for anything—I really do mean it.”
The other bikers guffawed and Hunter joined in, shaking a fist at Missy good-naturedly as she walked off.
Chapter 32
Missy
The Snip-Snip Salon was located in a strip mall less than ten minutes' drive from the park. Its cheerful pink sign featured a pair of scissors that appeared to smile and dance as the neon patterns blinked. The large front window allowed an expansive view of the salon's interior, and Missy could see that it was empty. The “Closed” sign hung on the door.
She pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store across the street, and Burger and Matches followed suit. “You guys hang back here,” Missy said. “Keep a close eye on the salon's window. If you see anyone in there other than me and Christina, you come running, understood?”