I’m almost happy to see two shady guys turn the corner the next second—yes, as in I’d rather talk to a possible murderer than acknowledge that the only girl I’ve ever given a shit about just offered me a one-way ticket out of her life.
I specifically told Baseball Cap Dude to come alone, but then again, the bastard is no genius.
“Remember what we talked about?” I gesture to Xavier’s phone in his pocket with a flick of my chin.
Xavier nods, quick to unlock his phone as I assess the guys before me. The rando tagging along is on the buff side and more imposing than his buddy, but I have no doubt Xavier and I could take them. I notice they both have their hands tucked into their pockets, as if to make sure they have quick access to something.
I can’t tell what they’re packing.
Knives?
Guns?
Whatever it is, they’re not playing, and they’ve got us at a serious disadvantage. Doesn’t matter. I came here to get a confession, and I’m not leaving without one.
They stop a few steps away from my car, watching us intently as though they’re afraid we’re going to slam the gas and run over their empty fucking skulls.
My fists clench as my focus drifts to the guy I nearly strangled to death the night of Lacey’s party. Then the little doubts left in my mind go up in smoke.
He’s not wearing his baseball cap.
I make the first move, pushing my door open and stepping out of the vehicle. Xavier follows my lead, not far behind me as I round my car and make a beeline for them.
“I see you brought a friend,” I drawl.
Baseball Cap Dude flashes a rotten smile. “Consider him my insurance policy.”
I almost laugh.
He’s batshit crazy if he thinks this guy, or a hundred guys, could ever protect him from me.
“Where’s my fucking money?” He cuts to the chase.
“Admit it first.”
My response throws him off his game. He casts a glance toward his friend, who’s just as much of a brainless fuck as he is, and cocks an eyebrow.
“Admit what?” he asks.
I scoff. “Spare me the bullshit. I know you killed my dog. Did you really think I’d never find out?”
I expected many, many reactions from him, but I definitely didn’t expect him tolaugh in my face.
His cackle ticks me off. “Is that a trick question?”
His buddy laughs along with him.
“Why else would I confess to your whore? I wanted her to tell you I’d run the bitch over. Not the brightest crayon in the box, are we?”
My whore?
What the hell is he talking about?
The shock in my eyes must give away my confusion because his lips curl into a twisted smile.
“Your side piece didn’t tell you?” he realizes.
My side piece?