I yanked Boo’s food bowl out of the cupboard and slammed it on the counter.
Whatever.
Chapter Fourteen
Your Real Family
Nick walked into Fortnum’s ahead of Vance and me. We walked in (I kid you not) holding hands (or Vance was holding my hand and I was giving myself a secret birthday present by letting him).
Yes, the badass mother and the head crackin’ mamma jamma holding hands. The dealers would probably piss their pants laughing if they saw us.
The place was packed.
Tex, Jet and Ally were working the espresso counter. Indy was clearing used cups from the seating area. The big, gray-haired, gravelly-voiced Harley guy was behind the book counter next to a woman I hadn’t seen the first time I was there. She was dark-haired, painfully thin and very tall.
“Oh f**k,” the Harley guy said loudly when he saw me, “batten down the hatches.”
Nick’s eyes moved to the Harley guy and then narrowed when Nick saw that he was talking about me.
“What’s his problem?” Nick asked just as loudly, turning to Vance and me.
Um.
Uh-oh.
“I’ve no idea,” I replied, feigning innocence.
“She’s my problem,” the Harley guy answered, still looking at me. “We’ve had the works. Indy’s kidnappings and murder. Jet’s kidnappings and rape attempt. Roxie’s kidnapping and stalking. Car bombs. Grenades. Knife fights. Female wrestling at Chinese restaurants. Mayhem at a haunted house. Gunshots at a strip club. Showdowns at society parties. Now we got a vigilante on our hands.” The man looked at Vance while the tall woman edged away from him and disappeared into the shelves (which I thought was a smart move). “What is it with you boys?” he asked Vance. “I really wanna know.”
Everyone was staring at us and there were a lot of everyones. Nick and I were staring at the Harley guy; both of our mouths were open.
“Excuse me, I’ve gotta talk to Duke,” Vance murmured, face blank (which I didn’t figure was a good sign). He let go of my hand and walked to the book counter.
Nick’s arm went around my shoulders and he dipped his head to my ear. “You think he knows about you?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “I think he knows about me.”
“Do you know what he’s talking about? Mayhem at a haunted house? Gunshots at a strip club?” Nick asked.
“Some of it,” I answered.
Nick looked closely at me. He was wearing a rendition of his Morgue Face with a little bit of “Oh my God” thrown in. Then he shook his head.
“Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know,” he said.
“Gotcha,” I replied, thinking he really didn’t want to know.
“Shee-it, it’s the f**kin’ birthday girl,” Tex boomed from behind the counter, a crazy-man grin on his face. “Get up here, Law.”
“Hey Tex,” I called.
“Do you know these people?” Nick was still whispering as he led me toward the coffee bar.
“Um… yeah. We’ve kind of become friends. Vance hangs out here,” I answered.
“Ah,” Nick said slowly, though his expression showed that he didn’t know if that was a good thing.
“Get outta the way. Get… the f**k… outta the way. There’s a birthday girl here. She comes to the front of the line,” Tex was booming at the customers. They were looking at each other, some of them seemed taken aback, others, likely the regulars, just did what they were told.