“Same. I’m beginning to wonder if he even fucking exists.”
“The thought had crossed my mind. Wondered if Marcus intentionally led us astray to give him space to do whatever he’s got planned while we’re busy, off chasing someone who we’ll never fucking find.”
Scott stared at me. “Our brains run the same way, brother.”
I stared back at him. He’d never called me that before, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I was too tired to process it this morning, though, so I left it alone and moved on with the conversation. “So you guys don’t have any more leads on him?” I’d hoped he would have something today. Anything.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
He passed me my coffee and I took a long gulp. It was so hot, and it burned my throat, but I couldn’t give a fuck. I needed the caffeine.
I eyed him. “How are you and Harlow doing?”
His silence told me a lot, but he did give me an answer. “Not good. She hasn’t slept here the last few nights.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.
“Fuck, you’re as exhausted as I am, aren’t you?” I asked, feeling his pain.
“Feels like it. There’s too much shit going on lately. I’ve never had to deal with relationship shit before, and I’ve gotta say, I’m fucking struggling with it.”
“She’s coming back, though, yeah?”
His hard stare held the anguish he fought. “I’ll make fucking sure of it.”
Shit.
We were interrupted by Nash who swore all the way down the hall. By the time he entered the kitchen, we both had eyes trained on him. “That motherfucking cat! I swear, if it fucks with me again, I’m gonna stuff it.”
Scott scowled at him. “You go near that cat, and I’ll fucking stuff you.”
Nash ignored him and announced, “J’s not coming.”
“Why not?” Scott asked.
“Some shit about Madison and her car not working and a haircut she needed that wasn’t worth his balls if he didn’t take her.” He shrugged. “You fuckin’ know women . . . there’s always some bullshit to deal with if you want to keep getting your dick sucked.”
“Didn’t fucking need that visual of my sister, dickhead,” Scott muttered.
My head throbbed with a headache I hadn’t been able to shake for three day.
It’s been three days since I’ve seen Layla.
I downed the rest of my coffee before interrupting their bullshit conversation. “Ricky Grecian contacted me a few days ago.”
That got their attention.
“And?” Scott demanded.
“He doesn’t want to share his territory. Threatened me with something if I don’t get Marcus to back off.”
“What?” Nash asked.
“An old crime that he covered for me.”
“He wouldn’t hesitate to use that shit, too. You got anything on him?” Scott inquired.