Page 17 of Traitor

So, after work and a visit to the gun range, I stayed up late most nights, researching the snippets of information from Monica’s notes. I tirelessly searched for something—anything that would help me find her killer.

What had she overheard?

Torch seemed to think that she’d run into another biker gang, but I wasn’t going to rule out anything—including the possibility that someone within her own gang had killed her.

I was starting to get obsessive over it—I couldn’t sleep and thanks to a chronic upset stomach, I wasn’t eating much either. Between my mother and Mike, I was one stress headache away from a nervous breakdown.

“So, what got you interested in guns?” LR asked, in between bites of his sandwich.

We’d left the range and met at a sandwich shop just down the road. It wasn’t fancy, and I wasn’t even sure that it would count as a date, but it was nice to share a meal with another person.

I swallowed my soup and replied, “I just felt it was time to learn. I’m a single woman and the world isn’t getting any safer.”

He nodded and took another bite. “You don’t want a man to take care of you?”

Well, he was going to get right to the point.

I shook my head. “No, I like being alone.”

It was a lie, but what could I say?

Well, LR, I fell in love with a crooked cop and broke up with him when he wouldn’t bend the rules for me. This led to my mother dying and me holding him personally responsible. Would you like to go on a second date sometime?

He gave me a wink. “Maybe you just haven’t been with the right guy yet.”His eyes danced with amusement as he said it.

My cheeks flamed and I dropped my eyes back down to my soup bowl. “Maybe you’re right.”

He wasn’t Mike.

Not even close.

I still wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing. We sat quietly, each of us picking at our food and searching for something to talk about. I suddenly wished that they served alcohol; anything to break the tension.

“So, what does LR stand for?” I ventured, hoping it was enough of a conversation starter to at least get us through dinner.

His entire face lit up. “It stands for Little Ricky. My ma was a big fan ofI Love Lucyand named me after Lucy’s kid. Sometimes, I tell myself, “Little Ricky, you are a grown ass man, time to get a grown ass name. Man, I don’t know though. It’s hard to give it up.”

I couldn’t help it. I grinned right along with him. “I think Little Ricky has a lot more character than LR.”

He bit into his sandwich and, with a full mouth, responded with, “Well then, you should call me Little Ricky. It’ll be our thing.”

He said,‘our thing’as if we were already together and I found myself wondering what it would be like to date a younger guy.He was sexy,but would I just find myself comparing everything he did to Mike?

Little Ricky reached for my hand and I didn’t pull away. I let him stroke the back of my hand, even as everything inside of me screamed to let go.

What was wrong with me?

Mistaking my hesitation for encouragement, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I felt nothing—not even the smallest hint of a spark. It was disappointing. Little Ricky’s face was baby smooth, where Mike’s had been scruffy. His lips were fuller and softer, but I missed the roughness. His kiss just felt as though it was lacking.

As he moved his mouth across mine, his tongue slipped between my lips, and I tried to conjure up something—anything that would blur the memories of Mike.

Little Ricky’s hand tangled in my hair and he exhaled softly against my lips before pulling back to look at me. “You’re beautiful,mi sirenita.” The smile faded from his face as he looked over my shoulder. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered quietly.

I turned to see what he was looking at and then immediately crouched down in the booth. “Did he see me?” I hissed from under the table.

“Oh, I saw you, Darlin’. Saw him…saw you…saw it all.”

Shit.

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