Page 34 of The Primary Pest
“Bartosz?” Dmytro called out. “Check the video feed.”
“I’m looking now,” Bartosz called back. “Skinny white kid. Black hoodie, no gloves. You can’t make out a face. They didn’t seem to care about the cameras.”
“Couldn’t be a pro, then.” Dmytro appeared relieved by that.
“The cameras aren’t really angled correctly.” Muse shifted uncomfortably. “I keep telling Carl we need to upgrade that system, but he thinks this is Pleasantville.”
“Pleasantville is north of here,” corrected Dmytro.
“That’s Pleasanton, and I was speaking figuratively.” Muse glanced toward Ajax. “St. Nacho’s is its own little Pleasantville. You know how a place gets a feel sometimes? Like it has an aura?”
Ajax nodded. “I do.”
“One of my friends says people come here because St. Nacho’s chooses them. It’s like nobody even sees the place if Nacho’s doesn’t want them here. Carl hates that because it’s bad for business, but he says it’s true.”
Ajax couldn’t help wondering what Dmytro thought about places that wanted people, but he understood what she meant. It wasn’t simply the beauty of the scenery that drew him to a place, it was a deeper, older magic that Ajax Freedom would have denied outright but Ajax Fairchild understood on a molecular level.
This motel felt like home. Like being in his grandfather’s living room and watching him tie flies. He hadn’t even seen St. Nacho’s the town yet, but already it was stirring his curiosity, calling his name.
Probably only because of how Muse talked about it, but also, there was something odd about fetching up in the last place he expected to be and finding someone he meshed with so well.
A few minutes passed in silence. If Dmytro had any thoughts about St. Nacho’s, he kept them to himself. Likewise, Ajax didn’t say more. He’d pushed his luck enough for the moment.
Muse lifted a shaking hand to her hair. “This is the first time I’ve ever been robbed. My mom will make me quit for sure.”
“How old are you?” Ajax asked.
“Twenty-two.” She folded her hands in her lap. “You?”
“Me too.” He hated giving his age. He felt so much older—the average human twentysomething was dog years younger than him. He’d been all over the world. Graduated from college. He earned his keep and dated men twice his age when he felt like it. Outside his Ajax Freedom persona, he’d kept them interested in more than just his body.
Despite how Dmytro treated him, he had a brain, a heart, a soul.
He had guts.
He didn’t feeltwenty-two, except when Dmytro dismissed him with that cold, cold stare. Except when he wanted Dmytro, and his heart raced, and his dick thickened, and he didn’t feel quite in control of his own body any longer.
His mother undercut him too, without really meaning to. She said not feeling twenty-two was one of the most common symptoms of being twenty-two, and she laughed at him whenever he tried to make the argument.
Ajax was an old soul.
His mother didn’t believe in those things.
Muse was an old soul too; he could see it. The way she handled being robbed, for one thing. The way she screwed her courage on and kept needling Dmytro and Bartosz even thoughthey were obviously dangerous, even ruthless men. Ajax liked her. It was a pity Bartosz planned to steal her car.
“That’s him,” Muse said when an old truck pulled into the covered parking directly in front of the motel’s front door. “That’s JT.”
The truck’s lights went out and the driver leaped lightly down. He hesitated when he saw Dmytro. Pulled a tire iron out from beneath his seat. Ajax moved quickly to prevent trouble—as if a tire iron could stop one of these guys. Ajax opened the door for him. “Hi there. You need to look at Muse.”
“What’s going on?” When he saw blood in Muse’s hair, he froze. “Oh God, Muse, what happened?”
“Someone hit me, I guess. Robbed the till. These guys found me, and Ajax wanted to wait until you got here before leaving.”
“None of you are going anywhere until I call the police.” He started dialing. “You’ll need to give statements.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. We must go.” Dmytro moved like lightning. One minute JT had a phone and a tire iron, and the next he didn’t. Even Ajax was a little stunned.
“What the hell?” At another narrow look from Dmytro, JT gave up and checked Muse’s wound. “Were you unconscious?”
