Page 37 of Pawn

“We will?” Jo asks.

“Allie, you’ll meet her by the harbour, but not until I say. We’ll do it at nine-thirty.”

“That’s still three hours from now, what are we gonna do until then?” Jo asks. “Breakfast?”

Pulling on my jacket, I give her a wink. “You know the only thing I wanna eat.”

We pull into the station not long after we’ve all made ourselves a little more presentable. The girls go ahead along the platform, ice-cold air seeping in as Jo whispers something to Allie. I’m not sure what she’s saying but Allie keeps looking back.

Weed is legal in Canada. It’s one of my favourite things about visiting. The shop will be open in an hour so after I grab a coffee, it’s my first stop. If I’m gonna keep my energy I need to eat breakfast, and if I’m gonna eat breakfast I need to work up an appetite. Nothing does it better.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jo says when I tell the girls the plan. “Might make this less of a trip from hell.”

“Seeing my cock last night was hell?” My hand comes to my chest, over my heart. “Ouch, Medusa.”

“Wait, what?” Allie asks, but I leave Jo and Allie to squabble while I duck inside to grab a few grams of some legal Canadian shit.

We roll up not too far away and I tell the girls to hang on while I grab some coffees. This gin could use some caffeine. When I get back, they’re huddled close, the Quebec wind harsher than Eden. But when Jo sees me, she straightens up as if I was the topic of conversation. I hand Allie a cappuccino and give Jo her filtered coffee, the way she likes it. Straight up like the badass she is. I like to tease her about her choice but she just doesn’t know the difference between good beans and sewer water.

Allie heads out to grab us breakfast while Jo and I walk along the waterfront.

“It’s beautiful here,” she says, her eyes on the glistening water, her curls swaying in the wind. “Cold. But beautiful.” She shimmies in her boots, shifting her weight as if she’s trying to work up some heat.

That smirk settles on my face, gin letting the words come out as smooth as she looks. “I know one way we can warm up.” Taking her hand, she pulls away, walking over to a long rail in front of the river.

So fucking stubborn.

Following her, I lean against the rail, moving closer to her ear. “You sure you don’t want me to keep you warm?” I ask. “You didn’t mind it last night.”

“Stop.”

“Alright.” Pulling on the rail, I hop over, balancing on the narrow ledge on the other side.

“Damien!” Jo calls, reaching for my arm. She latches on, tugging on it. “The fuck are you doing?!”

The tip of my boots over the edge, my eyes drop to the water below. Blue waves crash against the concrete and I don’t have to jump in to know it’s freezing. Inching further, I let go of the rail, Jo’s grip tightening. She’s the only thing keeping me from diving in.

“If you hate me as much as you say, let me fall, Rowland.”

“What the fuck, Damien? Get down!” She tugs harder, using the rail to help her. “I mean it!”

“Why?” I ask.

A whistle blows in the distance before someone yells our way. He speaks in French, telling me to get down and I assume it’s an officer.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Jo asks, my weight suspended over the water. “I’m not going to Canadian jail for your murder!”

“Why?”

“Damien!”

The whistle blows again before I decide she’s had enough. I’ve made my point. Placing my arm back on the rail, I hop back over to see Jo’s cheeks red, her brows furrowed.

I smirk. “For some reason that sounds better than American jail.” A policeman shakes his head at us before continuing along the trail. “Why didn’t you let me go, Jo?”

She pulls her hoodie over her head, turning on her boots. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“Alright! Egg sandwiches for everyone.” Allie jogs up to us with a few brown bags, reminding me why I’m here. “You guys good? It’s almost time.” She hands one to me and Jo grabs hers, walking ahead without another word.

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