Page 69 of Flock
“Nice ride.”
“Thanks.”
“Yours?”
The man has to be in his late forties, his pot belly on full display due to his T-shirt riding up, which is riddled with something resembling ketchup. He reeks of liquor. I side-step him and he blocks me, his eyes rolling down me in a disgusting and predatorial way. Booze has obviously given him way too much false confidence.
“No, the car isn’t mine, excuse me.”
“I used to race back in the day. Just wanted to—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because olive fingers wrap around the side of his neck, and the arm attached to them launches him into the side of the building. I grimace at the sick smack of flesh against concrete as the man’s eyes go wide and he stumbles, his legs twisting awkwardly before he falls flat on his ass. Dominic doesn’t so much as glance his way as he snatches the key from me.
“Get in the car.” An order that leaves absolutely no room for argument.
Eyes bulging, I haul ass to his Camaro and lock myself inside. I look over to see the man still struggling to get up as Dominic joins me and takes off without so much as acknowledging what just happened.
I crane my neck, relieved to see the man stumbling back into the store. “Was that really necessary?”
“Yes. They have to have the key back to let someone else piss on the seat.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
We take an unfamiliar route as the sun starts to set and my driver remains mute. After a series of turns, I’m completely lost as Dominic slows on a crowded street full of young thugs and scantily dressed girls huddled on the corners. Government housing lines either side of us as we creep through, and every head turns our way before their eyes dip down.
“Why are we here?”
“Errands.”
“Look, to each their own, but I want no part of drugs, or whatever business brings you here—you can take me home and come back.”
His jaw clenches as a guy in a ball cap salutes him, stepping off the curb. Dominic rolls down his window and lifts his chin.
“What’s good, man?” the guy says, eyeing me, his grin growing wider. “What do you got here? New girl?”
Dominic’s reply is ice. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
I hear the unmistakable cock of a gun next to me. My eyes go wide when I see the Glock in Dominic’s grip before he lays it across his lap. I have no idea where it came from.
“I told you I don’t like company, RB.”
The guy looks over his shoulder to see another man approaching, and turns to face him. “Step back, right now, motherfucker, I told you I have this.” The guy eyes Dominic carefully and steps back onto the curb.
“Sorry, man, he’s a young buck, my little nephew. I told his stupid ass to stay put.” He reaches into his pocket, but Dominic’s venom stops him.
“The fuck you doing?”
“Sorry, man, just wanted to get straight.”
“Then I guess you need to see Friar. I’m not driving back through here again. We clear?”
RB holds up his hands. “Been meaning to. I swear,” he nods over his shoulder. “Car is fucked again. See?”
Dominic eyes the Chevy on cinderblocks in the driveway behind him.
“Get it to the shop. We’ll work it out.”
“Thanks, man. I wanted to ask—”
