Chapter Seventeen
Gabriel
Kane slowly whistlesthrough the phone.
“Well, fuck.”
Yeah, fuck is right.
“How bad is going to be if they search your Winnebago?”
There’s no “if.” I’m positive they’re tearing the damn thing apart right now, after Paul’s little tirade. I’m leaning against a brick wall, handcuffs on my wrists and the payphone cradled against my ear, courtesy of the Canaan police department. And I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.
“Nothing that bad.”
“You weren’t still slinging weed on the side or anything, were you?”
I roll my eyes. “Kane, I was eighteen, and it was one time.”
“Yeah, but I had to smooth talk that cop into chilling out on your ass.”
I grin. “I do remember. But no, nothing in the Winnebago. Just some ‘headache’ cures that are literally aspirin dipped in pink candy.”
Kane snickers. “Shit, Jasper knew every trick, didn’t he?”
“Think he knew how to get out of something like this?”
“Probably,” Kane growls. “But I sure as hell wish he’d told us.” He sighs. “Look, man, I’m going to start calling any lawyers I know.”
I make a face. “Why doesn’t that sound very promising?”
“Because most lawyers I know are the ones who tried to lock me up?”
I groan and drop my forehead against the wall.
Kane sighs again.
“Was she worth it?”
I frown, and he chuckles.
“C’mon, of course it was a girl, doofus. Like you suddenly grew a superhero cape and sense of justice all on your lonesome?”
“And if I did?”
“If you did, then the sugar pills painted black that I sell guys who can’t get it up actually cure erectile dysfunction.”
I make a face. “Do they?”
He grunts. “They’ll sweeten your coffee.”
I sigh. “Well, she was.”
“Hey, at least you got that. Look, don’t sweat too hard. Where are you, county?”
“Just the town jail.”
He chuckles. “God, I love the south. They’re going to keep you there at least a few days. Small towns don’t have the manpower to start pushing paperwork to get you into county or anything. I mean, unless you really pissed them off.”