Page 66 of Bad Seed
“That’s why you were hiding in my house?”
“I was…observing. We needed to make certain.”
I don’t like any of this. “Certain of what?”
Cuke’s squirrely eyes focus like two death lasers. “That you weren’t with Ato anymore.”
I fling his head back and walk away. “What makes you think that?”
“You’re here, in hicksville California, alone.”
“I often travel for the shades. Alone.”
A chuckle like gravel in a tailpipe rattles up Cuke’s wheezy chest. “Don’t play dumb. Everyone knows. Ato’s losing his damn mind hunting for you. Says you were like a son to him. Is that true?”
My solid breath catches. For all the shit he’s put me through, Mr. Ato was the only man to take me in when my life burned. Standing there in the ashes at nineteen, angry and helpless, he offered me more than salvation—he gave me revenge. In exchange, I gave him my life.
And now that I wanted it back, he was coming for me with interest.
“What’s the offer?” I growl at Cuke.
“My generous leaders are looking to recruit.” He scratches his balding head in silent thought. “You.”
I snort. “The Squash don’t recruit outside the family.”
“I know, I know. But you’re almost like one of us. Lots of people could confuse a gangly eggplant for a manly squash. Now I’m not saying you’d be a lieutenant. Got to keep to tradition, but they’re making you a generous offer.”
“I’m certain.” I knew how the chips fell for those who weren’t shifters in the Nightshades. Compensated but no more than a bagman, and treated just as disposable.
“It’d be a job…with protection. Word is Ato’s really gunning for you. But you sign up with us, and he won’t be able to touch you.”
When I ran, I had to burn all my contacts. I didn’t realize that my absence had reached beyond the family. That wouldn’t reflect well on Mr. Ato. It was the kind of thing to make him do something stupid.
“Why me?” I ask. This story isn’t adding up. The Squash keep to the east coast. They don’t give two shits about what happens in Vegas.
Cuke shrugs. “Word is you’ve got a talent for making numbers appear in thin air.”
“Among others.”
He snickers and eyes me down. “So I’ve heard. It’s a good deal. And it’ll give you leverage when the Brassicas—”
“What about the Brassicas?”
Cuke’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. “Nothing. Nothing about them at all.”
No more being nice. I punch Cuke in the gut, hard and fast. He doubles over almost at the point of vomiting, but I know that sweet spot. Clutching his stomach, he wheezes out, “They weren’t lying about that punch. Fuck.”
“What about the Brassicas?” I repeat, refusing to let him flee from this.
“There’s a…a minor misunderstanding between them and the Shades.”
“A misunderstanding…?” The Brassicas are Vegas. Mr. Ato owns one casino, they have six. Only a fucking idiot would mess with them.
He’s not an idiot.
He can’t be.
“Way I hear it.” Cuke staggers up, still clutching his stomach. “You got out just in the nick of time.”
