is stable.
I smile as I reply between sets.
Derek: And you are not an angel of death today.
Hunter: There’s always tomorrow, mwah ha ha. And now I must go consume a pizza.
Derek: I’ll cheer you on in the pizza-eating contest.
Hunter: Go eat a leaf, bro.
I close the thread and resume my workout, listening to my audiobook as I lift harder and heavier, the sweat dripping down my chest, my muscles burning. When I’m done, I head to the lot where I keep my bike. Briefly, I think of my sister, and how straightforward she is. If Perri’s irked at me for Lord knows what, the least I can do is be up front.
I text her to give her a heads-up on when I’ll be home, figuring it’s the least I can do if she’s got an issue with me.
Derek: Be home around 7:30.
Perri: 10-4
I stare at the reply like if I look hard enough, I can decipher it. Decode the hidden meaning.
But what the fuck? TEN-FOUR?
Ten fucking four?
Jesus Christ. What did I do to her?
Along the way to my bike, I pass A New Chapter, and I duck into the local shop to grab some goodies for the rug rats. In the kids’ section, I find a picture book on safari animals, then an early reader on basketball and baseball for Travis. I grab both and head to fiction to see if there’s a copy of Mr. Mercedes. I left that book behind in the move and keep meaning to reread it.
I’m hunting through the shelves when a blonde woman strides by, smiles, and asks if I need any help. I tell her the name of the book.
“We just got a new paperback shipment in. Let me grab it.”
“Thanks so much,” I say, instead of ten-four. Because, hello? Who the hell says ten-four?
Except, well, maybe cops and rescue workers, I admit to myself grudgingly.
I head to the counter to wait for the blonde lady, and a furry calico rubs up against my leg.
“Hey there, sweet pea,” I say to the kitty, and she proceeds to rub her face against my leg, kicking the purr box into high gear. “Well, meow to you too.” I bend to scratch her chin, and she offers a most appreciative meow. “You’re one pretty lady, aren’t you?”
The cat rubs harder, purrs louder.
“It seems Clare wants to adopt you,” the blonde says as she returns to the front with a book in hand.
“She’s a sweetheart, and I’d take her up on it if I could.”
The woman laughs. “You should hear what my boyfriend says about her. Gabe is convinced Clare is plotting his doom.”
I laugh. “Your man has jealousy issues with the cat?”
“Something like that,” she says, then her eyes linger for a second on my arms. “You’re Derek, aren’t you?”
“I am. How’d you know?”
“Shaw mentioned something at dinner the other night. We’re all friends. I’m Arden.”
“Nice to meet you, Arden. And if you know Shaw, you must know Perri, then.”
Arden smiles warmly as she scans the book. “I’ve known her since we were six. She’s one of my best friends.”
“Yeah?” I want to ask a ton of questions, but I’m not sure where I’d start. Except I’m damn curious what the hell makes that woman tick. “Hope she said nice things about me.”
Arden simply smiles, her eyes roaming over my arms again to the sunbursts and arrows on my skin.
That makes me think that Perri did indeed say nice things about me. I have a hunch I know exactly what she told her friends.
And that reminds me that I do know what makes Perri tick—a helluva lot.
She told me so herself.
I’m going to have some fun with Miss Ten-Four.
Oh yes, I am.
17
Derek
Her car is outside, so I know she’s home. But I don’t look for her. That’s not our deal. I head to the back door, unlock it, and peer down the hall. I don’t see her in the kitchen.
That’s fine, especially since my first order of business is a shower.
It’s almost always a shower. After the gym, after work, whatever. I need the time to wash away the day and let it go. Too much goes on in my life, too many things I can take home with me. It’s best to find a way to shed them.
For me, that’s a hot shower.
After I dry off, I grab a pair of basketball shorts and tug them on, then hunt for a T-shirt. I snag a gray one from my duffel and pull it over my