Page 43 of Tye

“Mom does. Luckily, we have most delivered. Mom and Mrs Ames used to go, but they had enough. Now, they only shop for meat and fresh produce. Everything else they order.”

“Like Grandma. She does much the same.”

“Come on, let’s escape!” Ice demanded and pulled me off the sofa.

???

As we were sneaking out to the garage, I was aware of my shadow.

“What should we do about my guard?” I asked.

“He can follow. He’s not coming with us,” Ice sniped.

“That’s a bit mean.”

“Demi, we’re going on a date. It’s bad enough we’ve got security on us. I’m not having the fucker sit in the back of the car.”

“Why don’t we ask him to drive?”

Ice thought that over and then turned to my shadow, who was stood off to one side, but his eyes focused on us.

“I’ll drive, Mr Michaelson,” the guard announced and held out his hands for the keys.

“Thanks, Jerry,” Ice replied and handed them over.

To my surprise, a second man appeared.

“Jerry will drive, but I’m accompanying him as he’ll concentrate on driving,” he said.

“Life sucks, Josh, you’re fucking with my plans,” Ice snapped.

“You’ll get over it,” Josh retorted, and I laughed at the bland expression he offered, the opposite of Ice’s irate look.

“Ice, it’s fine. They’re doing their job,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to like it.”

“No, you do not, but you can argue that in the car. Climb in,” I replied, shoving him.

Ice climbed in the back, and I joined him. I was a little relieved that someone else was driving. I was completely confident that I could drive in the snow, but accidents still happened. If I had one while Ice was injured, I could make him worse. My gut told me that the guards were fully capable of driving in this weather.

We hit the pizza place, laughing and joking, and Ice was in a great mood. The change of scenery cheered him up. Not that he’d been miserable, but there was a weight lifted off his shoulders.

We were sharing a large bowl of ice-cream when someone stopped at our table. A glowering man in a suit stared at me before offering Ice a hand.

“Dylan,” Ice said.

“Ice.”

“How’s things?” Ice asked, and if I wasn’t wrong, he seemed uncomfortable.

“No different. McKenna remains the same,” he answered, and I swallowed the mouthful I had.

Shit, this was Dylan Hawthorne. The owner of Hawthorne’s Investigations and a friend of McKenna. I knew who McKenna was; Uncle Deke had explained everything to us when he returned from Rapid City. I wanted to look away and hide, but I wouldn’t.

What happened to that poor woman wasn’t my fault, and I would not let anyone place the blame on me for something I’d not done. Dylan’s burning gaze held me hostage, but I wouldn’t flinch.

“You told Drake you’re out with the enemy?” Dylan sneered, his handsome face twisting.

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