Sinners' Playground (The Harlequin Crew #1) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,169

the back of my pants and pointed it at his head. “I don’t live by other people’s policies.”

“Right, of course. Mind my manners.” He wiped his hand down his jeans and held it out to me as if I might be tempted to shake it. “I’m Joe McCreevy, owner and caretaker of this fine park.”

I ignored his sweaty hand and placed my finger on the trigger. “The key,” I growled and he nodded quickly, turning away and disappearing before returning with a bunch of keys and shimmying one off of the ring. He handed it to me and pointed down the track. “All the way to the end and turn left. It’s number twenty-two, the little blue one. But um…she’s not there, ya know?”

My pulse roared in my ears. “Where is she?” I asked in a deadly tone.

“Well I don’t know exactly, but she and a bunch of the Rejects headed out to town somewhere. I dunno more than that.”

I was about to leave when I paused and turned back. “Was Carter Jenson with them?”

“Er yeah, now I think of it. He was.”

Anger rolled through me like a dark sea. “What trailer is his?”

“Third one on the right up that ways.” He pointed and I nodded, stalking back to my truck and driving it toward Carter’s trailer. I got out of the car, stepped up to the door and twisted the handle. It was locked but one hard kick sent it flying open and I walked inside, gazing around his little shithole from the dirty boxers on the floor, to the washing up in the sink.

I spotted a wad of cash on his nightstand and grabbed a zippo lighter from beside the cooker, humming as I carried the money to the sink and lit it up in a mini bonfire. I dropped it into the sink, letting it burn until it was thoroughly fucked up then ran the water on it so little pieces of green floated in it, just enough so he could tell what it had once been. Then I rummaged through his kitchen drawers, took a steak knife out and plucked a chicken from the fridge. I left it on the side and stabbed the knife into it before grabbing a sharpie from a table and writing on the surface beside the butchered bird. What part of stay away from my girl did you not understand, dead boy?

I tossed the sharpie onto the floor, left the fridge wide open and headed back outside, tucking the zippo into my pocket. Maybe I should have just killed the guy, but I guessed he could have one more chance. Assuming he hadn’t laid hands on my girl of course. Look at me all reasonable and shit. The guys would be so proud.

I was about to get back in my truck when chatter reached me from behind the next trailer along and I wouldn’t have given it a moment of my attention, only I heard my girl’s name being mentioned. So I slipped into the shadows, creeping around the side of the trailer and throwing a glance out behind it where two guys were sat around sipping beer beside a smoking barbecue.

“-those tits man. They look juicy as fuck,” one of them said, miming squeezing and licking some fake tits in front of his face and anger raced beneath my flesh.

“I’d wrap all that unicorn hair in my fist while she sucked my dick good,” the other replied and I ran my tongue over my teeth then stepped right out into their little fiesta.

“Evening boys,” I said in a dangerous tone that had made bigger men than them shit themselves.

“Oh fuck,” the long haired one gasped, his beer almost comically held under his mouth as he forgot to drink it. The other one stood from his fold-out chair, his eyes wide and horrified. “Y-you’re, y-you’re-”

“Fox Harlequin,” I supplied for the speechless idiot, snatching a beer from the ice bucket beside his chair.

I cracked it open and took a long swig, letting them squirm as they waited to find out what I wanted. They weren’t gonna like it though.

I drained the beer, tossed the can and shoved chair boy back into his chair. It folded up on him and he hit the ground with a yelp of fear. I turned towards the other guy and smacked the beer out of his hand, grabbing his shirt in my fist and yanking his bearded face close to mine. “You ever speak about Rogue Easton