Page 3 of My Casanova

Yarder shook his head. “We run, and it’ll look like we did this.”

“Third fucking explosion with us present,” Fade muttered, his tone laced with frustration.

Yarder turned a sharp glare on him. “Shut the fuck up.”

I froze. Ope. They must have realized I was standing right there and quietly absorbed every word.

Smoke shifted and tried to sit up straighter with a grimace. Yarder moved quickly to help him and slipped an arm under his shoulder.

“Fucking hell,” Smoke groaned, and he pressed a hand to his ribs.

Fade let out a low whistle. “Pretty sure you flew like forty feet, man. Fucking low-flying bird.”

Despite the pain, Smoke chuckled weakly before wincing. “Pretty sure I cracked a few ribs on the landing.”

“Hopefully, that’s all you cracked,” Yarder said, his tone gruff but not without concern. He gently touched the back of Smoke’s head and pulled his hand away to inspect the blood. “How’s your head feel?”

“Like I flew forty feet and landed on it,” Smoke replied with a pained laugh.

“Yeah, you’re gonna feel this in the morning,” Yarder said and shook his head.

Smoke groaned softly. “I much prefer you being the one blown up.”

Yarder didn’t seem amused. Instead, he glanced at me, and his eyes narrowed, assessing whether I was a threat.

“She’s cool,” Fade said.

“How the fuck do you know that?” Yarder asked, his brow furrowed.

Fade motioned toward my shop. “Because she’s into wine and cheese, man. Almost as good as beer and cheese.”

I jumped in and hoped to ease the tension. Fade was right; I was cool in whatever sense that he wanted me to be, so I didn’t get on the wrong side of the Iron Fiends. “I have a few imported beers, actually. They pair well with cheese. Uh, you guys should check them out… sometime when you didn’t just get blown up,” I ended softly.

Fade grinned. “See? Cool.”

Yarder rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further.

The sound of sirens grew louder, and the shrill wail signaled that help was almost here. Moments later, fire trucks, an ambulance, and four squad cars pulled into the parking lot with their lights flashing brightly.

“Let the fun begin,” Yarder muttered under his breath. “Everyone stick to what we were doing.”

Curiosity got the better of me. “And what were you doing?” I asked, my voice quieter than intended. “I mean... just so I know.” Did snitches ask people what they were doing? They probably did. Maybe asking wasn’t my best choice.

Yarder’s sharp glare returned, and I immediately regretted speaking up.Yeah, snitches do not ask questions.

“We were looking at the empty space to rent,” Fade said quickly and saved me from Yarder’s scorn. “Building fucking blew before we even opened the door.”

“Wow, that’s... crazy,” I said. My words felt stilted. It was crazy, but these guys didn’t seem to think it was too crazy, seeing as this was the third time they had apparently been blown up. “Maybe it was a gas line or something? The gas company was out here a couple of days ago, working on something.” I vaguelyremember seeing a truck parked in front of the empty storefront earlier in the week.

Yarder’s expression softened, if only slightly. “Yeah?”

I nodded and held onto the detail like it might clear me of any suspicion.

Smoke shifted again and groaned softly. “Get me up.”

Fade moved to his other side, and together with Yarder, they helped Smoke to his feet. He swayed unsteadily between them and looked like he might collapse at any moment.

“Thanks for your help...” Yarder said and trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

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