Page 41 of Moros

No, it all happened and drifted by all of us like time slipping unnoticed into oblivion because we were attached to our fucking screens.

We didn’t bother looking up anymore.

“Hey!” I flailed with one hand while pointing to the screen. “Go back!”

“What’s up?” Pasha asked.

“Go back—” I instructed Khadri.

The pictures stopped as he hit rewind.

“A little moooore…there!” I pointed again. “See that man in the red t-shirt? I know him! Well, I don’t know him, know him. But my boss, Greg, had to throw him out of the diner about a month and a half ago.”

“What?” Khadri asked. “Are you sure?”

“No one else on the face of the planet has that stupid haircut.” I rested my hands in my lap. “That’s him.”

“Why did he get tossed out?” Boss asked.

“Well, came in, ordered water, then coffee and nothing else.” I explained. “He was occupying the table, just staring at me. He was there before I got in, so we didn’t really think anything of it. Until one of the waitresses came to me and told me he was asking some really invasive questions about me.”

“What kind of questions?” Khadri asked.

“If I was married,” I said. “If someone picked me up after my shift.”

“That is weird.” Pasha murmured. “Moros, do you know him?”

Khadri shook his head. “I’m going to assume he’s one of Sloan’s goons.”

Another phone call and a man with a Texas accent came on the right side of the large screen.

“I see we have everyone together.” The man spoke.

He must be John Keegan. Dude had spoken to him while we were together the last time. But I hadn’t met him.

“Ryanne Larwick.” He drawled. “You sure are popular these days. How are you beautiful, lady?”

I giggled. “You must be Tex.”

“What gave it away?” He smirked.

“Tex, I’m putting you to work.” Khadri told him.

“Oh, Darling, you might have to clear that with my other boss.” He thumbed over his shoulder at the woman now scanning the shelves behind him.

She laughed out loud.

“You leave me out of your shenanigans, John Keegan.” She teased, kissed his cheek, waved at us and sauntered away.

I blushed.

“What do you need?” Tex asked.

“I’m sending you a picture,” Khardi said. “See if you can?—”

“Marshall Clark.” Tex told us.

I blinked.

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