3. Easton

Chapter three

Easton

M ikey's sitting in his car just down the block from the florist–a tiny place on the dumpy side of town named Em's Blooms. I pull up behind him and then slip into the passenger side of the car.

"Sorry, man, I can't do it. She's just so huge. It's too much like Lila." His words are a nervous rush. It must have really fucked him up. It happens–having kids and a wife changes people, Dad always said. I'm old enough to have seen it myself several times over.

"Don't hold it against them," Dad would tell me. "If they're good people, make adjustments for them. You'll change when it happens to you."

I couldn't imagine it then, and still can't imagine it now. Then again, if you'd told me Mikey would freak out at the possibility of having to take out a preggo, I would have told you that you were full of it.

"Give me the layout of the shop," I tell him, hoping it will calm him down.

Mikey has a photographic memory. He describes the shop down to the smallest detail then sighs. "I must have spooked her. She closed the shop as soon as I walked out, even though her sign says she's open until six."

"Did she leave?"

He shakes his head. "Nope. But she's got a delivery driver coming at one."

I nod. "I'll come back then. It will give me some time to dig into what's going on. Dad didn't usually get this kind of stuff wrong."

"You said he gave half a million to Old Man Grayson for this place?"

I nod.

"Well, it wasn't spent on this dump. The girl's got duct tape holding tables together and computer equipment that's as old as the stuff we used back when we were in school."

"Do you think she's hiding him?"

Mikey shrugs. "Some of these people never know what the fuck is going on. She may be innocent. Could be the old man trying to throw it all on her. Wouldn't be the first time we've seen a shitty dad try to throw his kid under the bus."

"Well, I'll do what I can to keep her out of it."

"If she's smart, she knows the game her dad's playing and she'll see herself out."

"If she's smart," I agree, though most people let other things–love, devotion, misplaced loyalty–cloud their judgment. It gets them killed all the time.

Movement from the back of the shop catches our eyes. A woman appears with a trash bag in one hand. She looks both ways–probably checking for Mikey–before making her way over to the dumpster. She's tiny, but exactly as Mikey described her. Her pregnant belly is so full and round that she must find it hard to breathe. No wonder he couldn't do anything. She pauses for a moment and looks out to the street. I know with the window tinting we're impossible to see, but it's almost as if she knows we're here.

Her eyes stop at Mikey's car for the longest moment. She's impossible to look away from. Her blond hair is braided back from her face. It shines in the sun like a halo.

It's a shame her dad owes us so much, because, even pregnant, she's beautiful–the kind of woman I would invite back to my place at the end of the night. There's no chance of that with what I'm going to have to do to her dad and I'm not the type that enjoys dragging an unwilling woman to my bed, even a hot one like this woman.

She disappears back into her shop, and I turn to Mikey. "Don't worry, I've got this one. Tell Lila I'm sorry, but we've got a shipment coming in tonight. I need you to be there for it. Maybe go get some rest. It'll be a late night."

He nods as I turn to step out of the car and head back to my own. "Hey man," he calls out as I'm about to shut the door. "You've got Kevin's hair all over you." He reaches out, across the passenger seat and hands me a lint roller.

"You have a lint roller in your car?"

He shrugs. "Lila buys them for me. This one is advanced. It's not just tape on a stick. She said I need to take more care of my appearance since I work for the Alpha."

The Alpha with orange cat hair all over him. I sigh. "Uh, thanks." I roll it across my sleeves and chest as I walk back to my car. I've got some digging to do to figure this little mystery out.