Page 33 of Shattered

I ignore him, opening the door. “Hey man, Morgan, right?”

“Yes, sir,” he says. He’s a tall guy, unbelievably scrawny, with a patchy beard and beady eyes.

“You got my payment?”

“Yes. I just wanted to clarify some design details with you.”

“Make it black and scary. That’s all.”

His brows pinch together. “I saw the house next door. Is this some kind of HOA war or something?”

I chuckle. “Something like that. I want this house to look like death next to the sun. Can you make it happen?”

“Yes, sir, I can.”

“Cool. We’ll head to work soon, but I’ll leave the back door unlocked. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge and the shitter. If a short angry blonde woman gives you any trouble, tell her to mind her fucking business.”

Once Morgan heads outside, I shut the door and feel Bane’s eyes tearing into my back.

“What are you doing?”

“Pissing off Sunshine,” I say simply. I sit at the table with him, stealing a piece of toast off his plate, and he scowls at me.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Too late.”

He shakes his head, anger burning in his eyes. “At least this one isn’t married; at least, I hope not.”

Turner confirmed she’s divorced, and that’s good enough for me.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but don’t do anything stupid. If you’re gonna fuck her the way you want, you need to talk to her.”

“Conversation is wasted on Sunshine. It’s not sweet talk that makes her spread her legs.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re an idiot. I’m headed to the shop to finish painting.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

I wait until Bane leaves to finish getting ready, finding it easier to get around when he isn’t watching. Masking my limp isn’t doingme any favors, and it’s only making the pain worse, with too much pressure on my bad leg and too much strain on my good one.

When I get to the shop, Bane is finishing the final coat of paint. I set myself up at the desk and work on framing some of his pieces. After about an hour of work, I hear a loud truck pull in outside.

“The new doors and windows are being delivered and installed today. That’s probably them,” I say, breaking the silence.

Bane’s focus doesn’t lift from the wall. “Cool.”

I was hoping that’d mean he’d move his ass and go let them in, but he doesn’t. Instead, I hop out of my chair, seriously feeling the pain, and head for the door. The truck is parked just outside, and two guys in work clothes hop out to greet me.

But I’m not looking at them. Beyond one of the men across the street, some blonde hair catches my eye as it enters the clinic.

There isno waymy luck is this good.

“Are you Asher?” one of the men asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yeah, hey guys. My business partner is inside; if he’s in your way, just tell him to move. Do your thing.”

“Sounds good.”

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