chapter two
“If something is easy, that means you didn’t earn it. Wow, just went deep on you, didn’t I? Example: When getting the girl is easy — when the girl says yes right away — wave your hand in front of her face. She may be blind, home skillet. If said girl furrows her eyebrows, check her pulse. Can’t find her pulse? Aw, bless your heart, you’ve just hit on your first zombie. On a totally related note, the fate of the world is now in your hands. Badass, if you ask me.”
~From Max Emory’s Guide to Dating and Other Important Life Lessons
Jason
The small red house came into view. I narrowed my eyes as a bead of sweat ran down my temple then slid into the collar of my shirt.
I pulled the safety off my Glock and slowly turned off the engine.
The sound of my feet hitting the gravel sounded like something out of a bad cop movie. Dirt swirled in slow motion around my ankles as I took my first step. My black shoes crunched on the remaining gravel as I made my way onto the small innocent-looking sidewalk.
Crows circled above the house, as if they KNEW.
A golden retriever waltzed down the street then, swear on Max’s life, turned around with its tail between its legs.
The rocking chair on the front porch continued its back and forth motion as the screen door burst open.
I fingered my gun as perspiration coated my upper lip.
“Ethel.” I said her name like the curse it was.
She sniffed the air then lowered her chin at me. “Jason.” Her floppy grey hair waved in the wind as she peered over her thick, horn-rimmed glasses, her beady eyes seeing right through me.
My finger twitched.
“What are you doing out in these here parts?” Wrinkled bits of her red mumu hugged her calves; each time the wind picked it up, I caught sight of her pink fuzzy socks and weathered brown Birkenstocks.
“Oh, you know… just checking on my favorite town folk.” I forced a smile, my eyes grazing the lawn until they landed on the last Max sign.
Bingo.
Sadly, it was at least twenty feet away.
Closer to Ethel than me.
It may as well have been in the depths of Hell.
I wondered, in that moment, if it would be better to just run, or, knowing Ethel, would she simply gallop after me, strike my head with a blunt object, and drag me into her house?
The sign mocked me as it caught sunlight and gleamed in my direction. The picture of Max appeared to be waving at me.
Sighing, I took a tentative step down the sidewalk. I wouldn’t hear the end of it if Ethel happened to venture out this afternoon to get her mail, spot Max’s face in her yard, only to turn around and scream about the city’s inability to keep people off her property.
Let’s just say, if her house was on fire, the fire department would ignore the call.
Illegal? Yes.
Horrific? Absolutely.
Necessary? You. Have. No. Idea.
Ethel ran this neighborhood. Children whispered about her around the campfires, and she’d already forced two police chiefs into retirement — before the age of fifty.
“Say, Ethel.” I used a calm voice, one I saved for keeping people from jumping off buildings and going splat. I held out my hands. “I don’t want any trouble. I just came to grab an illegal sign off your property.”
“If you were doing your job, it wouldn’t be on my property, now would it, Jason?”