Academy Award.
Then I left, giving Amy a hug goodbye and telling her to extend that to Paul since he was nowhere to be found.
And I drove back to the set thinking Amy was right about one thing.
They needed closure.
I also needed closure.
I had not lied about the fact that Hank and Eddie had not given up on Diane.
But something had to give.
And soon.
And maybe Harrietta was playing me.
The woman might be weaselly but she was weak, and if I put the lean on her, she might deliver.
And Valenzuela liked me. He was hanging around more and more these days.
It made me sick to my stomach just at the thought, but I could finagle more time with him, maybe get him to trust me, overhear phone conversations, I didn’t know . . .
Something.
Anything.
What I couldn’t do was get any of that if I pulled out.
So maybe I shouldn’t pull out.
The very idea of this was going to tick Rush off.
Big time.
But maybe he’d get it.
Maybe I could talk him into getting it.
He was into me.
Maybe he’d get it.
But everything was falling apart even worse than it’d already fallen apart, and someone had to do something about it.
And since there was no one else to do it (but Hank and Eddie) . . .
There was no way around it.
That someone was me.
It was kind of exhausting, the fact that someone seemed to always be me.
But that didn’t make it less true.
That someone was me.
So I couldn’t pull out now.
Snapper
It was an itch.
And not a good itch.
And it wasn’t the first time he’d felt it.
It’d been happening off and on the last couple of days everywhere he went.
But when Snap parked, cut the power to his bike and swung off his ride, he looked around.
And as usual, saw nothing.
Cars parked on the street.
No people walking.
No one in a car hanging and watching him.
He pulled out his phone as he swept his surroundings while moving into the pizza parlor.
He engaged it, found Rosie the minute he entered, shot her a smile, got hers in return and headed to the bar.
“Yo,” High answered.
“I’m being followed.”
“Say what?” High asked.
“I’m being followed. Haven’t made him yet. But I know it’s happening. I’m being followed.”
“Fuck,” High muttered.
“I’m at Rosie’s work, havin’ a slice before she gets off and I’m takin’ her home. Send someone to do a scan?”
“On it.”
“Thanks, brother.”
High said nothing. He just disconnected.
“Pepperoni and mushroom, honey?” Rosalie said at his side.
Rosie was in work mode.
He didn’t mind.
He still was gonna give his woman shit.
“Hello to you too, babe,” he replied, sliding a hand along her waist and pulling her to him where he sat a stool.
She leaned into him, gliding both her hands into his cut to round him and tipped her head back.
He gave her a kiss.
And felt that itch.
So he lifted his head and looked around.
There were a couple of folks looking at them, probably because Rosie was gorgeous and worth watching, maybe because he was in a Club cut and a curiosity, but none of them were the ones behind the itch.
His attention went to the windows.
“Snap?” Rosie called.
He looked to her.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, baby. And yeah again. Pepperoni and mushroom.”
Her eyes roamed his face before she pressed in, smiled, kissed his jaw then pulled away to get him his slice.
He turned to watch her.
Then he got up, moved stools, taking the last one against the wall.
“You moved,” she said, behind the bar now, sliding a bottle of beer his way.
“Better people watching.”
And that was the truth.
She grinned. “I won’t be long. Join you in the slice after I clock out.”
“Okay, babe,” he muttered, reaching for the brew.
She bounced away.
He watched her ass while she did it.
Then he turned his attention back to the restaurant, the windows and beyond.
The itch was gone.
But he was being watched.
He fucking knew it.
Beck
Beck moved out of the bar sliding his shades over his eyes.
He’d had to take off from work early to hit it before maybe Digger hit it, since Digger had a day job and could only go out and tie one on then do whatever depraved shit that perv did to fill his time after quitting time.
He moved to his bike, swung a leg over, powered it up, took off, but only rode four blocks before he turned into the parking lot of a strip mall, cut the ignition but stayed on his bike and pulled out his phone.
He made the call.
“Beck,” Lucas answered.
“Lucas, you got a minute?” he asked.
“You got something, I got