Page 11 of Dark Daze

I looked him in the eyes, unflinchingly.

"No." Not yet. I slid into the seat, and half expected him to follow me in and pin me down.

He gave me a long look that suggested that was exactly what was on his mind, but he closed the door and got into the driver's seat.

Gunnar got in beside him. "Where are we going?"

"Shore Road. Frankie O'Malley is getting too big for his boots. It's past time we reminded him who's in charge around here."

I leaned forward and rested my forearms and the side of Ric's chair. "And who is that?"

I expected him to say he was, but instead he said, "Caleb, but we're keeping the peace and looking after our own interests. Nothing that would be considered overstepping. Don't worry, you're gonna enjoy this. Frankie, not so much."

I sat back and watched the sights of Dusk Bay slide past. The place changed a lot since I lived here. The buildings were taller and closer together. It was quickly becoming a city, not the town it used to be. Good, I preferred cities anyway. There was always something going on.

Ric pulled up by the side of the road in a grittier part of town. This had certainly changed. It used to be a hipster waterfront, full of restaurants and cafés. Now, everything was rundown. Paint peeled off the sides of buildings. Every second window was boarded up.

"You bring a girl to all the best places," I said sarcastically.

Ric turned and flashed me a smile. "Fuck yeah, I do. Don't pretend you don't love it. You're as at home here as I am. You belong here." He didn't add that I belonged to him, but the words hung in the air like smoke. He clearly knew there was something between Gunnar and I that hadn't died, even though he tried his best to kill it all those years ago.

"Frankie owns the pub on the corner," Gunnar said. He eyed me like he wasn't sure if I should be here.

I was sure he hadn't forgotten I could take care of myself.

"We'll go in around the back," Ric said. He brushed a hand over my cheek and added, "Just how I like it."

My stupid heart fluttered. He was a possessive asshole, but he got me better than most people.

I rolled my eyes at him. "How are you single?"

He stepped away from me, then said over his shoulder, "Who says I'm single?"

I didn't expect the burst of rage that flared up like pouring oil on a bonfire. One minute I was calmly standing beside the car. The next I was ready to slam a hammer into someone's ankles.

That someone wasn't Ric.

Sounding much calmer than I actually felt, I said, "Who is she?"

It wasn't until he turned around that I realised he'd been watching my reflection in the side mirror. I was ready to use a hammer on the triumphant expression on his face.

"There’s no one else." Without another word, he turned and headed around the side of the building to the back.

Gunnar gestured for me to walk in front of him. The look in his eyes was more guarded, more controlled, but I could tell he saw as well.

Fuck, this just got more complicated.

The door to the loading dock was open and a couple of people were moving kegs from the truck into the pub.

They spied Ric and Gunnar and went from slowly industrious to anxious as hell in the blink of an eye. They walked a little faster into what I assumed was the cool room.

"Remember the time my father got your father to lock a guy in his own cool room?" Ric asked cheerfully.

"Yeah," I said. "That was one of the easier cleanups." We went back a week later and the guy was frozen stiff. Carrying him out of the truck was like carrying a side of beef.

"Good times," Ric said.

Yeah, Ric had fucked me up against the side of the truck while the guy warmed up. By the time he was dropped off to be dispensed with, he started to smell.

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