Page 9 of Gluttony
She removed her glasses, folded them and used them to point to the dolls behind his head. “Care to explain?”
The torn shirt was beginning to make him feel a little exposed. He hopped down the trailer steps and gestured at the dolls before folding his arms to hide the battered shirt. “Your Honor, may I present Exhibit A; The reason I apparently need a bodyguard.”
“I’m asking who you think did it. Why they did it. Whose wife did you screw this time?”
He covered his heart in mock offense. “Objection. Speculation.”
It was a jest, but a glimmer of tightness constricted his chest and her words from months ago came back to haunt him:I don’t expect you to know anything.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop them from cutting him. The sad thing was, she’d been right. He knew nothing. He was a smile on a face and a dick on legs. A monkey who danced to someone else’s beat.
“What’s with the lawyer talk?” she asked.
“I might change genres and try a courtroom drama. What do you think?”
“I think you should stick to telling me about the job.”
“Oh, but it’s much more fun pretending to be someone else.”
“What’s wrong with being yourself?”
He plucked at the hem of his shirt, saw his skin through a hole and folded his arms across his stomach to cover it. When he didn’t answer, Bailey stepped into his trailer, leaving him out in the cold. She went to great pains to avoid touching him as she passed and then inspected the dolls with her sunglasses poking, brows puckering. “Do you have a copy of the police report?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“We didn’t make one.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“For a few dolls?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You taking me for a ride, Lazarus?”
“Babe...” He paused just in time, a smirk lifting his lips at the insinuation. He would say more, but that kind of line wouldn’t work on this ice queen. Nothing in his normal arsenal had worked.
Silence.
Their eyes locked.
She did this little confused flinch, shook her head and cleared her throat.
Tony rejoined her in the trailer, squeezed by and collected his wallet and cell from the tiny dining table. He shoved it in his rear pocket and then retrieved his skateboard from its spot near the sofa. His Ducati was at the lot, and it was a ten-minute walk to get there. He preferred to use the board for the journey; nobody stopped to talk to you when you skated.
He reached for the TV remote. Lilo was saying something about water catchments being inexplicably drained around the tri-state area, but he switched it off. It was an interstate issue. Feds would handle it. One day the Deadly Seven envisioned themselves being split across the world, to help in any way they could, but not today. Not yet. Not until after the Syndicate was eliminated. Since the Syndicate were close by, Tony’s family would stay local for now.
Bailey pulled her gaze from the dolls and began a slow scan of his trailer, pausing when her eyes touched the double bed, and then again when she caught the personal gym attached in a conjoined trailer.
“Did the stalker touch anything else?” she asked.
“I’m going to stop you there. Calling it a stalker is overkill. It’s probably Sloan’s retaliation for the time I locked her and Max in an elevator together.”
“Heard about that. Didn’t think Max was holding a grudge, though. Didn’t think Sloan was either.” She glanced at him and quickly looked away.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She straightened her spine and then turned her unwavering gaze back to him. “I thought what you did was nice, actually.”
