Lunchtime Chronicles: Passion Fruit

Prologue

Fuck You

Zain

B

ounty hunting excited me. It was better than sex, money, and power. I cared for nothing but the hunt—the thrill of the chase. The pulse-racing climax of capture.

I spotted Lucas leaving Paco’s Bar at the other end of Quest Street.

And the hunt begins.

A dusty camouflage hat topped his head. Black, stringy hair dangled out the back. Scars decorated his face. His neck was as thick as my thigh. The confederate flag covered his right arm. On his left was a large black tattoo that read, “Fuck You.”

Turning off my car, I grabbed my gun. “There he is.”

My brother Zachary looked up from his phone. “Are you sure?”

“How many 6’5 assholes with Fuck You on their arm could be walking around today?”

“It’s always good to be certain.” Zachary picked up the mugshot from the dashboard and checked it. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Lightening crackled. The sky darkened above us, signaling another storm was on its way. We were in Paradise’s rainy fall season.

Several feet ahead of us, Lucas continued our way.

Finally, got your ass.

Lucas had a court-issued FTA—Failure to Appear. The arrest warrant stemmed from a previous felony charges of Assault and Battery as well as possession of heroin. The judge set his bail at $120,000. The report also had him beating his ex-wife nearly to death.

Lucas also killed for Coffin Cheaters—a small gang in Paradise. He was considered one of the city’s most dangerous fugitives, which was how my team caught the assignment.

Whenever a skip like him failed to show up in court, the Freebird Bail Bonds called us to find them. Once we grabbed Lucas and brought him back, we would get ten percent of the bond—$12,000.

Rain drops hit my windshield.

Several people picked up their pace as if not wanting to be on the streets during the rain. Others pulled out umbrellas.

I put my keys in my pocket.

“More rain today. This shit sucks.” Zachary took out his Paradise Pirates hat and placed it on his head.

We were identical twins. When we were kids, no one could tell us apart. Mom made us dress the same.

Now as adults, we both had muscle, height, and green eyes. However, I kept my hair short. He loved his to be long. I had dark wings tattooed on my chest. Meanwhile, Zachary loathed needles.

“I hate chasing guys in the rain.”

I shrugged. “Better than chasing in the heat.”

More drops fell on the windshield, drumming a light rhythm in the car.

Lucas headed down the street next to us, whistling at a woman as she walked hand-in-hand with a young boy.

“Hey there.” Lucas wiggled his fat tongue at her. “You want to make an extra twenty?”

Frowning, she headed in the other direction with her kid.

Smart move.

Lucas called back, “Your pussy is probably only worth ten dollars anyway.”

I sneered, ready to jump out the car.

“Let’s go for him now.” Keeping my eye on Lucas, I called up Shark.

Shark answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Zain?”

“We spotted Lucas. He’s heading down Quest Street.”

“Going south or north?” Shark asked.

Whistling, Lucas passed our car. Already, his hair was getting slick with rain.

“He’s going south.”

“Good,” Shark said. “I’m five minutes away, coming from the south. You keep to his back. We’ll squeeze him in like a fugitive sandwich.”

Laughing, I put on my hat. “That diet your wife put you on, has you using food metaphors all the time.”

“Just don’t get shot.” Shark chuckled.

I hung up.

Thunder boomed. The rain shifted from a light drizzle to a downpour.

Lucas put his fat hands over his head and picked up his pace.

Zachary touched his door. “Ready?”

“Always.” I stepped into the chilly downpour. Hopefully, the storm wouldn’t soak through my body armor.

Around my neck, I wore a shiny metal badge engraved with the words Bail Enforcement Agent.

Zachary and I shut our doors and headed down Quest Street.

Twenty feet ran between Lucas and us.

With each step we closed the distance.

Whistling, Lucas glanced over his shoulder, spotted my badge, cursed, and sped off.

“Damn it.” I raced after him.

Zachary ran, but couldn’t keep my pace. “You had to wear that damn thing!”

“It makes us official!”

“It puts them on guard.”

“It is what it is.” Speeding up, I yanked the handcuffs out of my back pocket. “Eh, Lucas! Don’t run, man.”

“Fuck you!” Lucas tossed a big trash can behind him.

I jumped over the trash can. “That’s not nice.”

Lucas turned the corner.

I rounded it too.

Where is he?

While my hat kept drops out of my eyes, the flashing sheets of rain distorted my view. Due to the storm, no one was on the sidewalk.

I slowed my jog and spotted a diner door waving back and forth. I sped that way, entered, and spotted Lucas running toward the back.

An old woman screamed.

Hurrying, I side-stepped her and rushed through the crowded diner.

Lucas stumbled forward, shoving a waiter to the side and pushing through the kitchen’s double doors. The waiter fell to the floor, dropping a platter of salad and soup. Bowls and plates crashed to the floor.