Page 131 of Average Joe

Lilly grabbed my shoulders, held me at arm’s length. “He’s not happy with your retirement from the window. This morning, he looked terrible. Stubble. Messy hair. Dark bags under his eyes. When I greeted him, he looked at me like I was roadkill, yelled, ‘fuck,’ then punched his dash and drove off.”

“Lil, I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

“It is what it is.” She shrugged and turned to look out the window. “The Average Joe’s are here before I open, stay until after we lock up in the evenings. They’re watching us. And though it’s bullshit that our men concocted a whole business for the sole purpose of keeping tabs, I must admit, I feel safer.”

“Me, too. And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll fire your fabulous ass,” I teased.

A customer approached. Lilly headed to the window, and I continued restocking the supply closet.

When I was finished, I said, “I’m heading to Georgetown to check on Jazz. You need anything?”

“A night out with my girl?”

“Soon,” I promised.

We said our goodbyes. I waited until Lilly locked up behind me, then I headed for my other stand. I had only just pulled my parking break when an Escalade rolled to a stop next to me.

I envisioned a gang of beefy men dressed in black jumping out of the SUV, then stuffing me, kicking and screaming, into the back seat. Heart rate spiking, I dried my sweaty palms on my jeans.

But when Johan Harper stepped around the front of his vehicle and then opened my car door, I only grew angry. He moved aside, allowing me room to stand and gain equal ground.

“You are no longer welcome at any of my establishments.” I stood toe to toe with the man, daring him to challenge me.

“Good morning to you too, Marley.”

Much to my dismay, he stepped back, shoved his hands into his gray slacks, and leaned against his Caddy.

“What do you want?”

Harper studied my attire, scratched his chin. “Haven’t seen your boy.”

“Welcome to the club.” I held his gaze and balled my fists, struggling but succeeding in keeping my shit together.

“Heard you’re tight with Satan’s Slayers.”

“None of your business.”

Harper dropped his gaze to the ground. Nodded. Shifted on his feet.

Hmm. Joe had been right. Harper had heard Mr. Kaine was in town, and the old man was riled.

“Wrong crowd, doll. Are they the reason you’ve been putting me off? They running shit through your stands?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. You’re your father’s daughter.”

Despite that insult coming from a lifelong criminal, I was offended. “I’m nothing like that man.” Except for the erratic temper and running whenever life got uncomfortable.I stabbed a pointed finger into his chest. “I’m one hundred percent legit, and I’ll close shop before partnering with the likes of you or some sleazy, no-good biker gang.”

“Club,” he mumbled, correcting me.

What was with these men? Club. Gang.

Whatever.

I continued, waving him away. “Get back in your fancy car, and go intimidate someone who gives a shit.”

Harper’s white hair blew loose in the breeze, and he made no move to pat it back into place. He stared at me long and hard, no emotion on his face, then nodded. “My weekly visits are over, but hear this, little lady. I’m watching. I don’t take kindly to outsiders sniffing around my territory. If I hear you’ve got something going on with the Slayers, you won’t like the backlash.”

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