Manaconda 2: The Second Coming(5)

I’d gotten all that drama shit out of my system in my early twenties.

Why the hell was it my default setting right now?

Remy grinned. “I’m not gonna deny that I had a thing for Kennedy. Any man with a pulse is going to look at her with more than coffee and conversation on his mind. She doesn’t look at me that way. I got over it. Simple as that.”

My shoulders relaxed.

“It was fun to get you riled up though.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I wasn’t worried.”

Remy snorted, glanced at Wyatt and grinned again. “Yeah, all right.”

Wyatt nodded. “Asshole card.”

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Remy punched my shoulder. “I’m heading out. Think you two can behave yourselves? I can only pull one favor a week, even for Ken.”

I had to resist the urge to fist my hands under my arms. She gave me such shit for calling her Kenny and this guy got to call her Ken? What the hell?

“We’ll be fine.”

“Good. Now, for the real reason I’m still standing here. As entertaining as you guys are, the only thing I care about is that woman. Hang on.”

I clenched my jaw, but resisted the urge to swing.

“We met when I was moonlighting as security for one of her clients. But here’s the thing. She’s good people. I don’t care what kind of cloud of sex you both are wearing. That’s your business.”

“Damn right it is.”

Remy’s face went blank. “But when the haze clears, just remember—if you hurt her, there isn’t a hole deep enough for you to hide in. I’ll kill you.”

Wyatt and I both went still.

Remy laughed and slapped my arm again. “Just kidding. I’ll just put a bogus warrant out on your ass.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“Man, you gotta relax. I’m only kidding. So serious in here.” He saluted us both. “Take care and stay out of trouble.”

“Did you have the feeling that maybe he wasn’t kidding?” I asked Wyatt.

“I’m fairly certain you’d end up handcuffed under the Santa Monica pier during high tide.”

I gave him a side-eye. “That’s specific.”

“Maybe a little.”

My attention zeroed in on Indie headed our way. “Oh, here we go.”

“Shit,” Wyatt said under his breath.

“One night. Can I just have one night’s peace?”

I winced. “Sorry, Indie, but—”

“No. I don’t need to hear it. You work it out with Reed. Pronto. I don’t want to know how it happens. I don’t care if it’s bare knuckles in the gym, just make sure there aren’t any more goddamn cameras involved!”

“Right.” I looked over my shoulder, but thankfully, the fans who had been hanging around after the show had been herded out sometime between my conversation with Kenny and my threat via Remy.

The cop was smart. No witnesses.

Indie pointed at Wyatt. “And you put a leash on this one.”

“I’m not his mother.”

Indie put her hands on her hips, her straw hat tipped back as she looked up at him. “Guess what? Neither am I.”

“I don’t need another mother.”

“Good. Oh, and you need to call yours. Because she caught this latest stunt on Entertainment Tonight.” She patted my chest. “Nice job.”

“Ah, fuck.” I dug out my phone. It was on silent, but sure enough there were three voicemails waiting for me. Each one labeled mom.

“Can someone help me?” Keys shouted.

Wyatt sighed as Keys righted two of his high hats. He headed to the stage, then turned around, walking backwards. “You owe me a new kick drum, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put it on my account at Smith’s.”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

“Oh, I know you will, you cheap motherfucker.” I started to follow him when I noticed Bats was gone, as well as Vic—and so was Kenny. “Dammit.”

“Where are you going?” Indie called after me.

“I gotta catch Kenny.”

“She’s gone.”

I stopped. “What do you mean gone?”

“I mean vamoose. Remy walked her to her car.”

“I bet he did,” I muttered. I headed for the exit again.

“There’s a mess here that you caused!” Indie shouted.

I stopped at the door and turned back, then met Wyatt’s gaze. He interpreted my wordless question and shook his head. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, just go.”

No way was I sticking around to see if he changed his mind. “Thanks!”





3





Kennedy





I blotted my face at the sink, wiping away the last of my makeup. Sammy was sitting on my vanity bench, his head between his paws.