“No one needs any help with any hatchet,” I insisted, stepping in front of him to cut off his view of Naomi’s curvy, retreating ass.
“That hatchet that you two have been wrestling over for two years is stupid. Get over it and move the fuck on,” Lucian said.
“Don’t use that Beltway Bullshit tone with us,” Nash said.
Lucian had built a political consulting firm that involved far too many shadows for Nash’s liking. Our friend had a gift for putting the fear of God into his clients or the people who stood between his clients and what they wanted.
“That shit don’t fly in Knockemout,” I reminded him.
“You two have nothing to worry about. Let’s have a drink for old time’s sake,” he suggested.
“Can’t tonight,” Nash said. “On duty.”
“Then I guess you’d better get back to work,” I told my brother.
“Guess I better. Try not to let any pissed-off poker players bust up the place tonight. I don’t feel like handling the paperwork.”
“Dinner. Tomorrow night. Your place,” Lucian said, pointing upstairs.
“Works for me,” I said.
“Fine,” Nash agreed. “It is good to see you, Lucy.”
Lucian gave him a half smile. “It’s good to be seen.” He turned to me. “I’ll catch up with you when you’re hovering over Naomi.”
I flipped him off.
When he left, Nash turned to me. “You got a second?”
“Depends.”
“It’s about Tina.”
Fuck.
“I’ll walk you out.”
The August night was still smotheringly humid when we went through the kitchen and walked out into the parking lot.
“What’s the problem?” I asked when we got to Nash’s SUV.
“Got a few more details on Tina. She and her new man were moving stolen goods. Nothing major. TVs and phones. Tablets. But rumor has it the boyfriend is connected to some bigger criminal enterprise.”
“Who’s the boyfriend?”
He shook his head. “Either no one knows his name or they’re not sayin’ it to me.”
“Don’t got much of anything, do you?”
“Just a gut feeling Tina didn’t just decide to abandon her kid for fun. I think she’s in deep with some shit.” He looked up at the inky night sky. “Heard a couple of people saying they think they saw her over in Lawlerville.”
Lawlerville was less than a half hour’s drive. Which meant Tina probably wasn’t planning on staying gone.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Yeah.”
I knew what Nash wanted from me. Any other circumstance, I would have made him ask. But since this involved Naomi and Waylay, I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around.
“I’ll ask around. See if any sources who avoid cops will feel chatty with me,” I told him.
“Appreciate it.”
Instead of going home like I’d planned, I pretended to check a few things off my list. I played bar back for Silver while Max took her dinner break. Then I answered the two dozen or so emails I’d been avoiding. I even ducked into the shop’s supply room and cut down cardboard boxes for the recycler.
The fourth time I caught myself heading in the direction of the poker game, I decided to remove myself from temptation and headed for the keg room. I hoped the chill and the physical labor of moving full kegs around would take the edge off my annoyance.
I had a whole list of reasons to be pissed off at the world. And most of them revolved around Naomi Witt. Every conversation with her ended in me having a headache and a hard-on.
Watching other men trip over their tongues when she was around only made it all worse. I didn’t want her. But I wanted to claim her as mine just to keep every other asshole away from her.
I needed to get drunk and laid. I needed to forget she existed.
My hands were fucking frozen and my temper had cooled by the time I finished re-stacking the kegs. It was almost eleven. I figured I’d check in at the bar, then go the hell home.
When I hit the bar, Silver glanced up from the moonshine she was pouring.
“Mind checking in on the private party?” she asked.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Been a while since I’ve seen Naomi.”
My temper reignited like someone had thrown a gas can and a lighter on it.
I didn’t exactly kick the door open, but it was a more dramatic entrance than I usually made. Tanner, the skinny idiot who partied too hard to hold on to his money, fell out of his chair.