Page 67 of Bad Seed
No. Sure, he used to joke about taking them on, being the top veggie, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
He can’t do it.
He’ll…
“Leave.”
“But we were just—”
I grab Cuke by the arm and march him for the door. As he goes, his bare feet skid on the tile.
“What about the offer? We have a good compensation package. Signing bonus. Any dirt you give us on Ato will sweeten the pot—”
I kick open the door and hurl the naked man down the stairs. He tucks and rolls managing to bounce back to his feet. “Tell the Squash to stick their offer up their ass.”
“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same.”
“And if I see you here again, Cuke, there won’t be anything left of you to identify.”
He nods his head. “Fair. That’s fair. I’m going, but please, keep thinking about it. Wouldn’t want a talent like yours to go to waste and all.” With his hands tucked behind his back, he starts to walk off while whistling that fucking Small World tune.
Midway down the driveway, he turns and says over his shoulder, “By the by. That chick of yours is cute.”
Motherfucker. I rush through the house and grab my gun. Cocking it as I go, I shout, “If you fuckers try anything with—”
He’s gone.
Son of a bitch!I nearly squeeze out a shot in rage, but lock up and glance around the area. A handful of birds chirp from the trees. Otherwise, it’s dead silent. Shooting off a round will have every cop rushing to see who’s firing wildly out here. And this gun isn’t exactly registered to me…or anyone.
The Squash gang? I haven’t dealt with them since my parents… I’d be safer strolling down the Strip than pledging my loyalty to them. We all know how far that doesn’t go out there.
And what the fuck is this about the Brassicas?
Growling and muttering under my breath about every cursed thing gone wrong thanks to Brock, I reach for my phone and almost callhim.
“Here.”
The mysterious man in the green suit passes me a card. It doesn’t have anything on it but a phone number.
“You call that any time. Anyone gives you shit, you call me. Anyone so much as looks at you funny, you call me. Or, if you need a mango pie.” He smiles, his white teeth gleaming in that perpetually red face. “I love mango.”
In all those years, the offer never changed. Even as the strings grew, winding me up until I couldn’t so much as move in his web, he was still there. A shoulder to lean on. A friend. A…father.
And now he’s going up against the biggest mob in Vegas. Or they’re going to crush him at last. We’d survived by keeping to the south end, doing the piddly jobs the Brassicas didn’t care about. That was never enough for Mr. Ato. Nothing was.
Even after everything that happened. What he did to— My first instinct is still to warn him.
I shake off the bloody fog of memories and stare at my phone. Somehow, in all the commotion, I’d sent Sadie one thing—an eggplant emoji.
Her response, “I know all about that.”
Maybe you should. Maybe I should get you away from here. We could run off together. Away from Mr. Ato, the Brassicas, every other shifter family looking to grow their ranks with a wayward eggplant.
Aubry: You free tonight?
It takes a few minutes for her to get back to me. As I wait, I hunt for tickets to anywhere safe. Somewhere nice. Maybe Cancun.
My phone buzzes and I flip it over. She’s only sent me one word.
