Page 44 of Flash

Journey leans against the alpaca with the beret and scratches its rump. “You know I rent these guys out for kids’ parties and stuff. I got an email yesterday from a guy claiming to work here, saying you wanted to have a petting zoo in the shop as some kind of promo. It was obviously bullshit, but it sounded hilarious, so I figured, ‘why the fuck not?’”

“And the kids couldn’t resist getting in on the fun,” Stone adds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of baby carrots to offer to each of the goats.

“A guy claiming to work here…” As soon as I repeat the words, the pieces fall into place. “Dammit, this prank war has gone too far.”

“They always do,” Stone says solemnly, like he has firsthand experience with exactly that problem.

I huff and run my hand over my face. “Okay, get these animals outside, I need to clean and sanitize before customers start showing up.”

“That’s it?” Stone pouts. “This was anticlimactic.”

“We still got paid the rental fee,” Journey points out with a shrug.

“Don’t leave yet,” I say. “Just take them out to the parking lot.”

“The petting zoo is still on?” Stone perks up.

“We might as well make the best of it.” I set Gregory back down. He quickly skitters around me and peeks out from behind my legs to get a safe look at the strange animals. I pull my phone out and call Jag.

“Hey,” he answers, his voice rough and groggy.

“Get your ass down to the shop. You have a petting zoo to run today.”

LEWIS

“Motherfucker,” I growl, slamming my hand against the window. “What do I have to do to ruin their day?”

The parking lot is buzzing with people there to enjoy the damn petting zoo that was supposed to fuck up the Ink Slingers’ whole day. Instead, the goblin twink is outside, enthusiastically supervising the kids, who are gleefully feeding and playing with the alpacas and goats while the one with the dark beard and colorful socks peeking out from his combat boots directs their parents inside the shop, presumably to get tattoos.

“Maybe it’s time to drop the whole thing?” Rowan suggests. “Take the high road, ignore their goading, be an adult.”

“That’s loser talk, Row. Never surrender.” I huff and walk away from the window. “I’m going outside to get some air.”

It’s not like we have any customers coming in today anyway. Anyone who has even glanced in the direction of my shop has been quickly distracted by the furry animals and never made it inside. I stomp through the back room and push open the door that leads to the alley. I pull my phone out of my pocket while I walk and look down at the screen. I want to call Arrow and vent to him about this annoying fucking day, but he’s missing so much context on this whole situation, I should probably wait until tonight to tell him about it.

My feet hit the gravel and a yapping bark draws my attention as the door swings closed behind me. I look up from my phone.

“Gregory?” I ask, furrowing my brow at the familiar little white dog racing towards me. “Where did you come from?”

I bend down and he jumps into my arms just like he did last night at Arrow’s house. While he licks my face, I stand up and look around, my eyes landing on a Harley with a purple paint job parked among the other bikes that belong to the assholes who run the tattoo shop.

My stomach clenches and I shake my head, trying and failing to make sense of everything. Maybe it’s because I’m sleep deprived, or maybe it’s because my brain knows that as soon as I put the pieces together, I’m going to figure out something I don’t want to know, but no matter how hard I try, none of this makes sense.

While I’m standing there holding the dog, staring at the motorcycle that I’m almost positive belongs to Arrow, the door to Ink Slingers opens with a shrill groan.

“Gregs, where’d you get to, bud?” Arrow’s deep voice rumbles through the alley.

My lungs shrivel and my skin turns clammy. I can’t even feel my limbs as I turn on the spot to face the man I finally let my guard down with last night.

“Jason,” I choke his name through my dry, tight throat.

He stops mid-stride, his eyebrows pulling together. “Lewis, what—”

“You work at Ink Slingers?” I cut him off, bending to set down the dog now that he’s squirming wildly in my arms.

“Yeah, I—”

I bark out a humorless laugh, again cutting off whatever he was about to say. I can’t breathe. I can’t be this stupid, can I?

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