“Babe.” I laughed at the stupidity of the situation. “When I said ‘Wanna fuck?’ I wasn’t asking you to be my ol’ lady. A fuck is a fuck—cock, cunt, and hopefully an orgasm or two. It doesn’t make you mine.”
She scooted forward and let the sheet drop from her chest. “I didn’t even get one, you bastard,” she seethed.
I didn’t even bother glancing down at her tits, even though she wanted me to look. “Your greedy cunt latched on to me three times, sweetheart. Don’t give me shit that you didn’t come. You moaned my name like a bitch in heat every time too.”
“Get the fuck out!” she yelled as I yanked the shirt over my head.
Using the palm of my hand, I smoothed down my shirt and smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.” I waved on my way out, leaving the door open before I headed down the hallway.
She cursed me something awful, and it sounded like something out a horror movie, but I kept on walking and paid her no mind.
When I walked outside and the wind blew, I caught a whiff of her cheap perfume mingled with cigarettes and sex. Usually, the stench of my sexual exploits didn’t bother me, but for some reason, this time was different.
I’d been thinking a lot about Jackie lately. All the things I’d lost the day she left me. I hadn’t opened my heart to anyone since then. People in love surrounded me, and it gutted me—knowing I missed that in my life.
Even though I’d had an ol’ lady or two in the last twenty-something years, they didn’t compare to Jackie. I was sure I’d never given them a chance, but it was hard for them to overshadow the perfection of my wife in my memories.
My phone beeped as I was about to climb onto my bike.
Tank: Get your dick out of her and come to the Cowboy.
I wanted to go home and wash away her scent, but Tank came before ridding myself of Molly’s stench.
Me: On my way—be there in 10.
When he asked for a favor, I didn’t question him. If Tank wanted me to drive into hell with him at four a.m., I’d show up to fuck shit up with him in a heartbeat.
***
When I walked through the doors of the Neon Cowboy, Tank was seated at our usual table and surrounded by the crew—Frisco, City, Morgan, Thomas, James, Mike, Anthony, and Sam. They were deep in conversation from the looks of it, leaning across the table in close formation. I didn’t even need to hear a word to know that something major was going on.
“Yo,” City called out when I was only a few feet away. “Sit your ass down, we have a lot to talk about.”
I pulled out the chair, turning it backward and straddling it. “What’s up?”
“It’s Johnny,” Morgan replied with his hand in a tight fist on top of the table. “I’m going to kill him if I ever find him.” He slammed his fist down on the table, making all the drinks bounce and come down with a loud clatter.
I’d never liked the prick. Since the day I met him at Race’s track, there’d just been something about him that seemed off. Race raved about how helpful he was, but I just had a feeling about him. After Race bought the track from him, she hired him to stay on and help her get everything up and running in tip-top shape. He quickly cozied up to Fran, Morgan’s mom, and the rest was history.
Tank placed his hand on Morgan’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “He stole fifty thousand from the track’s account and disappeared.”
I was surprised by his balls but not shocked by the audacity. “When?”
“When he didn’t show up at work today, Race knew something was fishy. Then the bank called because some checks she wrote bounced.”
“Terrible,” I muttered and shook my head. This wasn’t the time for an “I told ya so.”
“We’re working this one off the books,” Thomas told me with a raised eyebrow. “I’m sure you have no problem with that.”
“None,” I said firmly. “But if I find him, I get to beat his ass first.”
“He’s all yours, buddy,” James said before he looked around the table. “We’re going to gather information and try to find a few leads, then we’ll plan our attack.”
That was what I loved most about these guys. No one wanted to call the cops or pussyfoot around a problem. Johnny was going to wish he had never been born by the time we were through with him.
Thomas leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I know tomorrow is Saturday, but we need everyone at the office and working on this.”
I grabbed the pitcher of beer and poured myself a glass. Molly was still lingering in my mouth, and it wasn’t pleasant. She was like a bad pill, and her aftertaste was stuck in the back of my throat. “I got nothing else to do.”
“I’ll be there too,” Sam finally piped up in the conversation. “I’m always there when you guys need me.”
Sam had changed since I’d first met him. In the past, there wasn’t a day I didn’t want to punch him in the face, but he’d grown on me. He’d grown up a lot, and he’d always had our backs. Tough fucker even took a bullet without whining like a little bitch. I even dared to say he’d earned my respect—which wasn’t easy to do, especially after you’d already been classified as a shithead.
City glanced down at his watch. “I know it’s late, but let’s be there by noon. We don’t want to give this guy too much time to get very far.”
“There isn’t a place in the world he could hide from us for long, brother,” Mike said, rubbing his chin with the biggest smile on his face.
“How’s Fran?”
“She’s devastated and pissed off. My mom is downright scary when she’s mad. Johnny better hope you find him first and not my mother,” Morgan replied and grimaced. “We can’t let her get involved. She’s going to try, but it’s a no-go, fellas.”
“Understood,” James replied.
“I have no problem telling her to butt out,” I said and shrugged. “Want me to handle her?”
Morgan’s eyes sliced to mine. “You will not handle my mother.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Kid, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m just sayin’ she and I are equals. She’d listen to me.”
“Bear,” Tank whispered at my side and elbowed me in the ribs.
“What? I’d never touch the woman. Jesus. What the fuck do you guys think I am?”
“Seriously,” Morgan said through gritted teeth. “You can never keep your shit in your pants. You’re getting nowhere near my mom, Bear, don’t even think about helping.”
I laughed it off, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it bothered me a little. Fran was a fine piece of ass, but never had I thought about bangin’ her silly. Wait. That was a lie. I did imagine it…more than once. I’d just never act on it.
“I’m a perfect gentleman,” I told the table, and they all burst into laughter. “Bros before hoes.” I shrugged.
“Dude.” Morgan dragged his hand through his hair, and he was struggling to stay in his seat.
I shook my head and set shit straight. “I’m referring to anything with a pussy, my friend. You guys—” I glanced around the table “—always come first.”
Morgan continued to mumble under his breath, but he dropped the bullshit. Everyone agreed we’d meet at ALFA PI at noon, and then they slowly disappeared until there was only Tank and me left.
“Another?” I asked and grabbed the pitcher that was almost empty.
“I’m good.” He waved me off. “You better watch what you say about Fran around Morgan.”
“Come on,” I groaned before I topped off my glass. “You know me better than that.”
He glared at me when he stood up, hovering over me. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Bear. She’s off-limits. Got it?”
I threw my hands up in the air and pushed back from the table with the pitcher still in my hand. “Fuckin’ A. I’m not tapping that shit, Tank. Get the fuck off my back.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her, dumb fuck. You’re lucky Morgan hasn’t caught on.”
I slammed the pitcher against the table and narrowed my eyes. “Shut the fuck up already about this shit. I’m not going to fuck Fran.”
“Uh-huh,” Tank muttered before he left too.
Fuckers.
I might be an asshole, but I had morals. Didn’t I?
2
Bear
Thomas tapped a stack of papers against the conference table, peering around the room. “Good, everyone’s here. What do we have on Johnny?”
We had been at it for three hours—making phone calls, tracking down leads, monitoring his digital footprint, and any other information we could get our hands on about John McDougal.
“McDougal isn’t his real name,” Sam spoke first and pushed a sheet of paper toward Thomas. “It’s O’Sullivan, and he could be using either name.”
“What about his cell phone?” James asked.
“It’s been turned off,” Morgan told us as he rubbed his temples.
“Have your buddy keep on it in case he turns it back on. We just need a few seconds to find his location,” James replied like we were all new to the game.