Page 41 of Fly's Path

“Really? How do you know this? Did you ask any of us to do a background check on her? How do you know that she wasn’t following you, waiting for an in? A weakness to exploit.”

Vandal shakes his head so hard he almost breaks my grip.

“Don’t say no to me. It’s happened with younger kids. The Ghost routinely uses kids as drug dealers. Why wouldn’t he use a teenage girl to do his dirty work?”

“I’d know.”

Yeah, right. There’s no point in holding back my snort. “Really? Can you see anything past a nice rack and a cute body?”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

Oh, he’s got it bad. “Do I need to pull you? Because I will if you can’t start using your brain.”

“Check her out. Check Lola out. I know she’d never work for a drug dealer.”

“We’re already working on it.” That’s not going well. It’s been surprisingly hard to find anything about this teenager. It’s like she never had a social media presence, which makes me twitchy.

“Work faster, because you’re going to clear her. I know it.”

“And if we don’t? Have you thought about that?” Because it’s a thing of my nightmares.

“Then we use her to get to him, just like we’d use anyone else.”

Do I believe him? “Are you sure?”

“Anyone helping to kill kids deserves what they get. Yeah, I could without hesitation. But she’s not. Lola’s innocent.”

I hope so, for his sake as well as hers. “We’ll see. Keep your wits about you.” I slam my fist into his gut and palm his watch. “Thanks for the bling.” Vandal’s got good taste in watches. This one is pretty sweet. I should keep it just for the irritation factor.

Breaking into his real apartment to give it back might be interesting.

Beautiful Death

Vandal

Since the moment Fly gut-punched me, literally and metaphorically, all I have been able to think about is what if I’m wrong?

The woman sashaying towards me with the cutest smile on her face can’t be dangerous.

What if Lola isn’t the person I think she is?

Could I literally have just invited death into my life?

Our first meeting was completely unplanned…or was it?

My dealer set the date and time. He asked me to meet him there, and I complied.

Could Lola have been there, waiting for an opportunity to present itself?

It would have been easy to walk up when I was so deep into my family trauma that I couldn’t see anything else.

“You know you don’t have to wait for me after every class.” Her grin says she loves that I do.

Like I have any say? I have to be exactly where I am, because every fiber of my being craves being near you. “How was class?” I take her backpack from her.

Could Lola be that devious and opportunistic?

My gut says no. I’ve run into enough people like that through my childhood to have a good feel for liars and cheats.