Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
“Hmm.” She cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her lean hips. She had a nasty hourglass figure and the attitude to match. The kind a lot of guys probably enjoyed and found a challenge these days. “He never told me he was from Maryland.”
Jesse rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if everyone in this town was either out for themselves, or crazy, or both. “You haven’t seen him, or do you know where his girlfriend lives?”
She shook her head, then eyed him up and down almost suggestively. Jesse was close to taking advantage and asking if she wouldn’t mind if he waited in her house for his friend to come home, but before he could decide, a man in a black T-shirt stretched tight across his big chest came to the door and ordered her back inside.
Jesse returned to the other side of the street to wait. It was mostly brush, discarded materials, and rubbish, before an eight-foot barbed-wire fence blocked him from crossing the boulevard. His cell phone was almost dead, so he figured hanging around Worm’s house would be best rather than wandering the neighborhood and running into some more weirdos.
The later the hour and the darker the street got, the more Jesse was ready to attempt breaking and entering, when a run-down Chevy with ladder racks lining the flatbed pulled into Worm’s driveway. Jesse immediately recognized his best friend’s dad—though it’d been a few years since he’d seen him—as he made his way up the porch steps. He had a miniature cooler tucked under one arm as he let himself inside of his home. Jesse felt a modicum of relief before he remembered that Mr. Markinson had no idea that Worm had invited him to stay.
Jesse tried to give the man enough time to remove his work boots and take a piss before he hurried across the street and knocked on the door. Mr. Markinson yanked it open roughly and stood scowling down on him as if he was expecting a process server.
Jesse cleared his throat and quickly put on his best teenage grin in hopes his growth spurt, and Proactiv-treated skin, didn’t make him unrecognizable. “Hey, Mr. M, how you been? Been a long time, huh?”
Mr. Markinson opened his door wider—but not enough to be mistaken as an invitation to come inside—as recognition seemed to set in. His glower slowly dissolved into more of a grimace. “Yeah, hey, what’s up, kid?”
Um, okay. “Yeah, hey.” Good to see you too. Remember, I’m the kid that used to let your son stay at my house and eat dinner with me and my mom while you were leaving him home at age eight to fend for himself.
“You and my boy hooked up again after all this time, huh?” He frowned at the duffle hanging loosely at Jesse’s side. “What’s in the bag?”
Jesse jerked his head back in surprise. “Um, my clothes. Why?” What else would be in there?
Mr. Markinson looked skeptical, but instead of concerning himself with it further, he seemed to dismiss him. “Worm ain’t here. But if you see him, you tell him he better have those goddamn trash cans out to the curb on time, or else.” He closed the door while muttering, “I’m getting real fed up with his disappearing acts while I work two jobs to pay the damn bills.”
Jesse was left standing cold on the porch with a shocked expression and an empty stomach. He dropped his forehead into his shaking hands and tried to breathe through his frustration. Worm, where the fuck are you?
Just in case, so his friend didn’t get into more trouble, Jesse waited until he saw Mr. Markinson through the open blinds in his bedroom window, before he darted around the house and hauled both of the overflowing trash cans to the curb.
Jesse walked back the way he’d come until he was out of the neighborhood and on Memorial Street. He was careful to avoid the block that he’d already nicknamed “skid row” where the homeless residents didn’t appreciate trespassers. First thing he needed to do was find a warm restaurant and buy himself a nice dinner and a hot beverage. He figured he’d start there, and then maybe he could concentrate on how to find his friend.
Jesse was walking down the dark street, nodding at a few passersby like any respectable person, but most of the people he made eye contact with quickly glanced away. What is with this city? He crossed at the intersection and made a beeline toward a brightly light diner when the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.
He felt eyes on him, like he was being watched.
Mason
Mason steeled himself and walked through the frosted glass doors that read,
Atlanta Police Department Narcotics Task Force
Lieutenant Cashel Godfrey
Lieutenant Leonidis Day
Three of God’s enforcers—Ruxs, Green, and the ex-RECON Marine, Steele, were at their desks, geared up and ready to terrorize some drug dealers. He was surprised when they acknowledged him with admirable, almost brotherly expressions.