Page 74 of The Witness

“I’ve not had a social media account since the Myspace days.” It was the truth.

“How is that possible?”

A joke was on the tip of my tongue, something flippant about not being interested in what Kim Kardashian was wearing. Then I stopped myself and decided this was an opportunity to let her in. Give her some of my story like she’d wanted.

“I missed out on social media or fell through the gaps, I guess. Myspace was a novelty, and we all had it in college. My network was other students and a few hip professors. They were all academic types, most planning on PhDs in sociology and teaching careers. I left all that and joined a motorcycle club. Not a status update the people from grad school would have understood.” My throat constricted as I spoke, choking the words.

I’d not even stayed in Gainesville long enough to attend graduation. I was so angry about Marney’s pointless death. Mad at my parents, her drug dealer, the world. Social media and keeping up digital appearances weren’t on my radar.

“Because of your sister,” she prompted, but I ignored the lifeline.

“I didn’t explain what I was doing to anyone. Not even my parents. I threw away one life and took up another. It was a brutal transition from academic to biker.”

My parents were stunned. Already shellshocked by Marney’s overdose, then to lose me to the same outlaw world. The wedge between them and me turned into a frozen-over canyon by the time it was all said and done. Revenge is an ugly business.

“You never told your parents?”

“They figured it out.” I hated the cruel undertone in my words. We’d never spoken about what I did to avenge my sister’s death, but they knew.

“Huh. What about Smith? Did you tell him?”

“No need. He knew.” My loyalty to my sister and the ability to work the long con on The Rogues were what got me the job offer. Too bad I still wasn’t entirely sure that my life as a biker had been a lie. I was like an undercover cop that had gone in too deep.

“That was over ten years ago. And still no social media. Nothing?” She was incredulous.

“I never developed the habit. What did I have to post? No wife, no kids. My job isn’t the kind you can talk about online. I don’t even have a cute dog.” Ugh, I sounded pathetic. This sharing shit sucked. I should have gone for the cheap laughs and made a joke about Kim K’s ass.

“Hold on, that’s not true. Lady Gaga’s bodyguard is huge online. And very hot.”

I chuckled. Only Sabrina would lighten up a somber conversation with a comment like that.

“I’ll have to join one of these time sucking apps and find his account. A guy needshashtag goals.” I cringed at the cheesy turn of phrase and the Valley Girl accent I’d used.

“Oh yeah, the world needs you on the ’Gram.” She was on the verge of laughing, and so was I.

“I just threw up a little in my mouth.”

“We can do a photo shoot here at Viande. I can see it now. No shirt. Chest oiled up. Muscles and all your ink on display. You’ll have ten thousand followers in no time.”

Now I was laughing. Loud enough I drew a few glares from staff and shoppers at Oleander.

“Want to come over tonight and show me those muscles?”

Her flirty voice and tempting offer had me shifting in my chair, suddenly aware how well tailored my gray suit pants were.

“Unfortunately, I’m working now until Christmas Eve. This is a twenty-four seven gig until Wanders leaves for the holidays up north.” Normally I’d have split the close personal protection job with another Smith Agency employee, but we were short staffed with extra clients during the lead-up to the end of the year. And Noah had managed to get the flu.

She made a sad pouting noise into the phone that again made me laugh.

“I’m booked Christmas Eve. My mom’s holiday party at Silver Palms.”

“I know, I’m bartending.”

“What?” she screeched. “How did that happen?”

“What Minerva wants, she gets… even me.” I didn’t tell her I’d accepted her mother’s invitation when I thought my chances with her were similar to a snowball’s in hell. Then again, I wasn’t so sure I was on stable ground yet.

“I’m going to have a stern talk with my mother.”

---