Page 39 of Static

"Any word on whether they've realized that the cop Static took out is missing?"

"Matthew Hughes," he answered. "No. It's only been a week. I don't think his buddies have even reported him missing yet, but we probably only have another day or two at the moss." He frowned. "Most," he said, making sure to enunciate.

"Which is why we're moving on this tonight," Lockout said, giving Riptide a break. Rip slumped down in his chair, still staring at the wall. "I want this part of the plan executed and finished before they start looking our way for Hughes going missing."

"You think they will?" Idaho asked. His eyes were bleary, but otherwise he didn't seem to be in as much pain as the rest of us.

"Yeah. Not only did we have run-ins with him before, but Fremont is going to be looking for any excuse to come at us." Lockout looked around and sighed. He was losing us and he knew it. Most of us were either still drunk, or too hungover for this. "Those of you going tonight, meet with me before you leave. Until then, go back to bed and fucking sober up."

Everyone shoved out of their chairs, most of us as slowly as we could so we didn't fuck our heads. Rip stumbled as he headed for the door, but Hush wrapped an arm over his shoulders to help him out. A hand shot out and gripped my shoulder. I groaned as I turned to face Ricochet.

"It's not what you think-"

"My sister's an adult."

My brows shot up. That wasn't what I expected from him. He seemed to have calmed down a little from initially hearing about me being in her apartment. That was a good thing. "She is," I said, tone cautious. He was being reasonable. That alone was cause for suspicion.

"She can do whatever she wants." His top lip lifted in disgust. "Whoever she wants."

"Okay." I narrowed my eyes trying to figure out his play here.

"I think you'd be good for her. For those kids."

"I agree."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "But if you fucking hurt her, I'll cut your balls off and shove them so far up your ass you'll never shit right again."

Swallowing back bile at the visual his words created, I nodded. "Fair enough. Can't say I wouldn't say the same if I had a sister."

"Just needed to be said," he muttered. He slammed his hand down on my shoulder in a way that could have been a friendly goodbye, or a threat.

I had a feeling it was up to me to interpret it. Standing next to my chair, I watched him walk out, then realized Lock and Idaho were still in the room. They were standing, side by side, arms crossed over their chests.

"You're doing that thing," I told them.

They both dropped their arms and shifted. The fuckers had a habit of even standing the same way, and had been doing that shit since they were kids. They were so much alike, they'd even gotten tattoos in the same areas, but opposite sides. It had started as a joke that they'd do it, but one day they decided to follow through and over the years they'd just kept adding to their growing collection. They didn't have the same tattoos, they had just started out in the same areas. Idaho had his right ribs and hip done, while Lock's was his left. Of course now Lockout had a full sleeve on his right arm, as well as in other spots. He had a lot more tattoos than his twin did.

"That went better than I thought it would," Idaho stated, again pulling me from my thoughts.

"Fucking true. He didn't even let me tell him that I didn't fuck his sister."

Lock groaned. "Good thing. Otherwise it wouldn't have gone as well."

"Why?" I asked.

"You don't tell a man you didn't fuck his sister," Lock replied in exasperation.

"I'm pretty sure that is what you're supposed to tell them," I pointed out.

"You don't use fuck and sister in the same damn sentence when talking to her brother," Lock amended.

"Or father," Idaho added.

I thought about that then nodded. "You're right. I feel like I would have known that if my brain wasn't currently melting in a pile of acid."

Lockout chuckled. "That's what you get for going round for round with those two. I swear they metabolize alcohol faster than they can drink it."

"It's a talent," Idaho said. "You know what?" He looked over at us. "Fuck this. I don't need to be here right now. Even if that asshole was getting his ass kicked for touching the pretty single mom, I didn't need to be here," he said, pointing at me. "I'm going to bed."

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