Page 12 of Wicked

I chuckle, never tiring of hearing about Ken’s three kids and the troubles they get into. Or the lengths his wife goes to to keep them out of trouble, especially their oldest, fifteen-year-old Kelly.

“Hey, if your schedule’s open, I have a job for you. It’s short notice, so I’ll understand if you take a pass.” Ken’s a private investigator.

“What is it?”

“I need information on a person of interest.”

“One of these days, your girl of interest will break your heart. Or she’ll come for you with a sharp object.”

A girl’s already broken my heart, so no biggie there. As for a girl coming after me with a sharp object, does the jagged side of a key to handcuffs count?

“I make my intentions clear.”

One-night stand only. Or a no-strings relationship. If the sex is great. Or the season’s off to a bad start and I need to blow off some steam. Or my team is winning games like crazy and I’m in need of celebratory sex. Shit, I’ve got sex on the brain.

“If you say so. These asks of yours are few and far between, sparing me the tough talk about safe sex and acting responsibly. That’s your daddy’s job.”

“So you’re available?”

“I can fit you in.”

“Thanks, Ken. I want a complete check, including anyone in her social circle who died under bad circumstances or were sent to prison.”

“Son, I’m concerned, and let me tell you the reasons. One, you’ve never asked for anything beyond whether your girl of interest is in a relationship you don’t know about. No one likes cheaters and liars. Two, the death and prison talk is getting me all kinds of uncomfortable. And three, are you sure you want to get involved with this girl? Your mom will have a shit fit. You’re her only child. Your dad will rip you a new asshole for bringing trouble into the family. Do you understand the directions I’m coming from, kid?”

I do. It took my dad a long time to get the rich, the privileged, and the upper echelon of snobs to accept my mother into their social circle. If I disturb the peace, there will be hell to pay.

Damn it, I should withdraw from the bet and walk away. I wasn’t prepared for Harper’s talk of karma, death, and prison. But I’m a glutton for punishment. I need to see how this thing I started with Harper plays out.

“Thanks for the tough talk, Ken. Glad it wasn’t about sex and acting responsibly. You’re right. That’s my dad’s job.”

Dad tried, but it was my mom who gave it to me straight about the birds and the bees.

He sighs. “If your parents catch wind of this, I’m pleading the fifth. Her name?”

“Harper Garrix. Girl’s name is Harper Garrix.”

5

Ryker

The guys in the house want to try the diner on the outskirts of Prescott.

I’m in. What else do I do on a Friday night? Twiddle my giant thumbs? Harper isn’t returning my texts. And Coach gave the team strict orders: stay away from tits and ass. There’ll be no hitting up bars, nightclubs, or campus parties tonight.

“Shit, man, this is as sedate as it comes.”

I agree with Jake, but for a low-profile place, Prescott Family Diner’s parking lot is packed. We enter through the double doors as one, five hulking football players with hearty appetites after practicing hard just hours earlier. Brett is MIA.

The hostess, a woman I recognize as Elsa and Red Riding Hood’s mom, greets us. Her eyes light up when she sees me in the crowd of testosterone.

“Ryker, right?”

“Um, yes, ma’am.” I glance at her name tag. Pam.

“Are you here to see Harper?”

I put the pieces together rapid fire in my head. No wonder she didn’t return my texts.

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