Page 5 of Fake Coral and Keys

“Man, you got some bad luck.” TJ shakes his head, distracted by the tangle of our many lies. “First you get caught carjacking, then you have a mysterious disappearance,” he makes air quotes with the word disappearance, which I want to tell him are unnecessary, but I keep my mouth shut, “which I had to lie,—lie, Blake—to the scariest Judge in the Seventh District.”

“Which I compensated you for,” I tell him.

“Nah, that was a gift of thanks.”

I roll my eyes and watch a woman with honey-golden hair jog past. The way the sun catches the strands makes me think of Daisy. An ache burns through my chest. I miss her.

“I lied because your stupid-ass disappeared, and had to file an order telling scary Old Judge Bryant your grandmother passed,” TJ continues. “Then grandma,” he uses the air quotes again and I resist punching him, “number two gets sick and you feed me some story about needing to travel to the mountains, which we all know is bullshit, but I still had to prepare more paperwork and prepare to lie, yet again.”

“I gave you a thank you gift for that one, too.” I stop walking to look at him. “And we’ve already covered that mydisappearancewasn’t my fault.”

My mind flashes to those horrid days I’d rather forget. My unplanned vanishing act from my parole officer wasn’t exactly my fault. Disappearance? Kidnapping? Whatever, right? Whichever word was used to describe what happened to me didn’t change the fact I had gone off the radar and TJ couldn’t get a hold of me for many days. For whatever reason, TJ covered my sudden disappearance, telling Judge Bryant my grandmother had passed, and he’d just forgotten to file the paperwork for approval, saying his wife being pregnant with triplets nearly had him losing his mind. He’d risked his career for me and, forwhatever reason, Judge Bryant let it slide with a warning and signed the day late order, anyway. I’d paid TJ handsomely, yeah, but that was all I could do to show my thanks. He’d asked where I’d gotten all that money and where the fuck had I gone, but then told me he didn’t really want to know as he pocketed the cash.

“Whatever man,” TJ says. “You keep your secrets and your bad luck. I don’t care. Just no more carjacking. I can’t cover for you then.”

“It wasn’t carjacking,” I growl. “And yes, I have bad luck, which is why you need to keep this story straight in case we have to use it.”

“Chill the fuck out. I got you.” TJ nods absently as he looks around. “Let’s do this.”

I resist rolling my eyes yet again and dig the envelope out of my pocket, then place it in his outstretched hand. His eyes dart in every direction and I punch his arm. “You’re the one who needs to chill the fuck out.”

“I’m trying,” he blurts out. “Not everyone can remain calm while they commit crimes.”

“The more suspicious you act, the more attention you draw to yourself,” I tell him. “That’s how people get caught.”

“Sorry that I have little experience with taking bribes, lying to Judges, and carjacking, like you.”

“For the last time,” I say. “It wasn’t carjacking, it was joyriding.”

His dark eyes dart to me, his brows furrowing. “Excuse the fuck out of me, Mr. Car Thief, who only steals cars todrivethem aroundjoyously, and then puts them back.”

I scowl at him. “Carjacking is when you steal a car while a person is in it, usually at gunpoint. I didn’t do that. What I did was joyriding.”

He gives me a dry look. “Please forgive my misuse of criminal terminology. Not everyone takes bribes and steals cars to gojoyriding.”

“It’s not like the guy was appreciating the car,” I mumble. “Who the fuck lets a 1965 Thunderbird convertible sit in their driveway every day and never bother to cover it?”

“Wait,” TJ says, backing away from me. “You said you came across the car by accident. How do you know it was sitting there?”

“Because I drove by the fucker’s house every day and saw it sitting there for months, completely neglected.”

TJ shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop my words from connecting with his ears. “Don’t tell me that shit. That’spremeditated shit. Not taking a random guy’s car for a joyride like you plead to the courts.”

I shrug. “He had it coming. All that money and no appreciation for it.”

“Fuck, Blake,” TJ whispers and looks up at the sky. “Stop talking.”

I glance at my watch again and motion to the envelope in TJ’s hands. “Are you going to put that away or do we want to let everyone know I handed you a ton of money?”

He glances down at the envelope. “It’s all here?”

“You know it is.” I don’t mention that I included an extra thousand. It’s not like I can use all the money I’m sitting on. TJ can.

He opens the flap and peeks inside. His eyes grow wide. “Hundreds? How do I hide hundreds from my wife?”

“Would you rather I had rolled in with a suitcase of fives and tens?” I ask. “Try hiding that, dumbass.”

TJ shoves the envelope in his pocket. “She’s going to fucking kill me if she finds out,” he murmurs, looking around again.

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