Page 32 of Chaos Luck Wrath

She backed up a couple steps and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair on her hurried exit from the restaurant. Gage followed directly behind her, leaving Joey glaring at Jonathan.

“The next time you have any information on that fuckface, you bring it to me first.” There was no need for Joey to tack on an ‘or else’ to his demand, the deadly cold stare he gave was enough to make a corpse shiver.

Chapter Fifteen

LET THE GAMES BEGIN

The crisp air outside the restaurant had been more refreshing than the beer she had been drinking inside. The breeze swept away some of the panic that had been attempting to pull her under.

She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her cargo-style jacket, her hands pulling her long brunette tresses out from underneath the back of it afterward.

Layne remained standing out front, watching the hustle and bustle of the people on the sidewalk. The microbrewery, Qwerty, was basically in the center of the busiest section of Times Square. Even with the evening quickly falling over the city, the massive number of electronic signs lit up the area like it was high noon.

A pair of strong arms came down around her, pulling her back into the safety and warmth of Gage’s chest. His face nuzzled into the side of her neck, lightly kissing over the soft skin, and inhaling the scent of her soap.

“How are you doing, Lucky Charm?” His voice was just loud enough for her to hear, but gentle enough to not come off as startling.

She swallowed down another piece of her anxiety. “I’m fine.”

Gage’s arms squeezed around her, wishing they could make everything right in her world.

Stepping outside right as Layne responded, Joey came around to face her. He cradled her face in his hands. “Layney, we all know that’s bullshit. It’s okay if?—”

With a bit more forcefulness in her tone, she repeated herself, “I said, I’m fine. If he wants to give me more reason to hate him, he’s only making my life easier.”

It was the answer she wanted them to hear, not the one she wanted to scream into the void. Trying to blow by the topic of her asshole sibling, she stepped out from between the two men. “We’re going to be late for the show.”

Allowing her to create space for herself, Gage dropped his arms from around her and Joey’s fingertips glided across her cheeks as she began to walk into the flow of foot traffic.

Layne led the way, with Joey and Gage quietly conversing two strides behind her. Both of them made sure they had a set of eyes on her back.

Joey leaned over, whispering to his brother, “Have you heard back from any of your buddies if they’ve discovered any other shifts amongst the other factions?”

Gage shook his head. “Nothing. Have you made the call?”

Inhaling deeply with a slow exhale, Joey also shook his head. “I’m trying to avoid it. It’s a favor I don’t want to ask unless we get desperate.”

“Joe, this shit isn’t going to de-escalate itself. He already tried to shoot her once.”

Grunting at the memory of the pain of having a bullet lodged in his chest, Joey’s hand rubbed the fresh scar over his heart. “Don’t have to remind me.”

They all passed by a set of doors that led from a theater. Timing as it was, a show was just letting out and a sea of people came pouring from the double doors. The human stampede came between Layne and the guys, separating them further and obscuring Joey and Gage’s view of their girl.

Joey yelled out, “Layne, hold up!” His words were lost over the sound of boisterous conversations of the audience that had just left the theater.

“Fuck,” Gage muttered as he tried to push through the crowd.

When both guys got past the sudden surge of people, they still couldn’t lay eyes on where Layne had wandered off to.

“She probably is still heading straight for the show’s venue,” Joey attempted to reason.

The two of them stepped off to the side, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. Gage took out his phone and was in the process of pulling up Layne’s location when a seemingly old homeless man with a Yankees ball cap approached them.

The strange man was hunched over and wobbly on his two feet. The brim of the cap shrouded his face, but visible was his peppered beard which was unkempt and scraggly as it extended several inches below his chin.

With an unsure and meek voice, the disheveled man leaned in towards Gage, “P-please, excuse me. Could you spare some money? I could use some food.”

Barely sparing the man a glance and irritated with the homeless man’s shitty timing, Joey placed a hand on the vagrant’s chest to stop him from getting closer to Gage. “Sorry, man, can’t help.” Joey continued to peer over at the phone in Gage’s hand.

---