Chapter One
Drey
IfIsawonemore gangbanger wannabe strut through the door I was going to start cracking some skulls.
The tattooed, overly pierced, hunk of trouble shrugged at me while I was shoving my customer’s purchases into his recycled grocery bag. With a little more force than I should.
Hope he liked smashed Twinkies.
“That’ll be six dollars and thirty-four cents,” I said, keeping the punk strolling up the chips aisle in the corner of my vision.
Sure helped that I was a bouncer at one of the busiest clubs in town. Made it easy keeping my eye on this convenience store. It was tiny in comparison.
“Looks like it might storm,” the gray-haired guy in front of me said. “My bones are aching.”
So was my head. One too many beers last night didn’t help the cause, either. “Yeah. Well. It might break this heat spell if it did.” I shoved the ten dollar bill in the cash drawer and counted his change back, hurrying things along.
I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from the loser scoping the beer area. No need for this old fart to get caught up in any trouble that might be coming my way.
Or get hurt.
This store had been hit three times in the last six months. None of them were on my watch, but I’d be damned if I was going to break that streak. The guy who owned this place was decent. He didn’t deserve trash coming in here ruining things for him.
I pushed the cash drawer shut and wished the old guy a good day. It was the beginning of August, just after noon, and it seemed like the creeps were coming out earlier and earlier.
Dumbass thieves were getting bold.
Cracking my knuckles, I moseyed around the counter. “Yo. What’s up?”
Loser Boy glanced in my direction then returned to his beer without a word.Totally rude.But what could I expect? I’d been there, done that. I hoped to high hell this guy wasn’t on a task or initiation assignment from whatever gang he was fixin’ to get roped into.
I remembered my initiation…and it wasn’t pretty.
I shook that memory from my mind and zeroed in on the kid. He couldn’t be more than eighteen. He came into full view as I shuffled the chips around, feigning work. His army colored pants were shaggy and dirty, and the ends frayed. They hung off him like he’d not eaten a decent meal in weeks.
Maybe I’d pegged him wrong and he was homeless and hungry. That’d be an easy solution. I’d set him up with some food and drink, then send him on his way, but I wasn’t so sure luck was on my side today.
Too bad I didn’t have my trusty cooler, and best friend, Hunter Amos, with me. At the bar we made quite a team, and I wouldn’t mind him having my back right now.
I glimpsed out the front windows to check for a car or other members of his gang getting ready to jump in and team up on me. All appeared quiet, but that didn’t calm the warning bells gonging in my mind.
Propping my arm on the top of the candy aisle, I watched him.
“I don’t swing that way, man,” the guy said, still not making eye contact with me.
“Oh, he’s a comedian.”
“Then what’s up with the staring?”
“Trying to size you up. I’m guessing a snatch and grab, but I wouldn’t put it past you to pull a knife to try and get me to open the safe.”
The guy stood straight, and his jaw tightened. So hewasgoing to pull a knife. I didnothave time to get stabbed right now. I had to be at the bar later tonight.
“This can go down two ways, buddy. You can try robbing me, which will lead to my kicking your ass. Or I can just kick your ass for trying to do whatever you were going to do to get into whatever loser gang you’re trying to get into.” I stood to my full six-foot-two height and crossed my arms. “Either way, my knuckles are going to meet your face in about thirty seconds.”
“Now who’s the comedian?” His focus shifted to over my shoulder. The bright sun shadowed whoever entered the store, but I could tell he was at least five ten and fairly built.
Movement out of the corner of my eye had me ducking, and I raised my arm. My hand palmed Loser Guy’s fist, and I twisted, exposing his inner forearm. I ducked, then cracked my heel against his knee. The shadowed figure advanced, but I didn’t miss the flash of a knife.