Light as a feather, I tiptoe to the door and peer through the peephole.
Distorted hallway. Dark and shadowy as usual. A shape near the stairway moves and takes on the form of a person.
Shouldn’t be the couple who lives upstairs. Neither of them ever linger on my floor.
Unless they need help with something.
I curl my hand around the knob, then freeze.
If they needed help, they’d knock on the door and ask.
Could it be Grayson trying to surprise me?
“Grayson?” I call out.
The shape stills.
That was stupid. Gray wouldn’t be out after ten and risk getting tangled up with his parole officer. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Now whoever it is, knows I’m here.
I reach into my pocket, then remember my cell phone’s in the other room.
Damn.
What am I going to do? Call the cops? I’m sure they’ll speed right over.
Whoever’s out there starts walking. They’ve got their hood up so I can’t see much more than a blurry, baggy outline. Maybe they dropped something. From the size and shape, I think it’s a man, who slouches by and lopes up the stairs two at a time. Friend of my upstairs neighbors, I guess.
Unsettled, I back away from the door and roam around my apartment, checking that the windows are locked up tight. Not that anyone should be able to climb up to the second floor, but it makes me feel better.
Alarm set. Teeth brushed. Face washed and moisturized. There’s nothing left to do except turn back the covers and slide into bed.
Without Gray next to me, it takes a long, long time to fall asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grinder
Sunlight bounces off the blankets of snow outside, waking me early the next morning.
Griff’s still sprawled out on my couch, legs hanging off the end. Better feed him since the kid wasted a whole night here.
I’m almost finished frying up some bacon when he drops into one of the chairs at the counter. I pass him a mug of coffee.
“Thank you.” He yawns and scrubs his hands over his face.
“Sorry about the couch.”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
There’s a knock at the door and both of us turn. Griff pulls out his phone and checks the screen. “It’s Remy.”
He strides over and checks the peephole before opening it.
“Morning, brotha!” the newcomer’s voice booms from the hallway.
“Easy. It’s early,” Griff warns.
The kid who strolls in is even larger than Griff. I glance at the refrigerator. Gonna need to make another trip to the grocery store if I’m feeding these two all week.
“Grinder, this clown is Remy. Remy, this is Grinder.”
Remy extends his hand and I give it a quick shake. “Morning. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem.”
The two of them wolf down breakfast. I brew another pot of coffee.
“I gotta get to work.” Griff stands and stretches. “You got my number, Grinder. Give me a call if you need anything.”
“No one needs you.” Remy reaches out, lightly punching his friend in the gut. “I’ll be here.”
Griff smirks and lifts his chin at me. “Like I said, let me know if you need something.”
“What’s on the agenda?” Remy asks after his friend leaves.
“Need to go into Empire.” I glance at the clock. “And I need to leave soon.”
He claps his big hands together. Kid seems to have trouble sitting still for long. “Let’s do it.” He turns serious. “We’ll take my truck to make sure no one’s tailing you.”
Good to know he’s got a brain and some common sense under his cocky exterior. “Thanks.”
I grab the stuff I need and we trudge downstairs and into the foul weather. “Need to stop somewhere and buy a shovel,” I warn him.
“I got two in the back.” Remy says over his shoulder as he leads me to an old Ford Bronco with a beat up plow on the front end.
“This truck has to be older than you are.” The interior’s worn but clean. “Looks good, though.”
“Yeah. Griff and I took it on as a weekend project for a few years, restoring it to its former glory.” He chuckles and pats the steering wheel affectionately. “I mostly use it for plowing in the winter.” As he pulls onto the main road, he asks, “Where we headed?”
“Southside of Empire.”
“Okay.”
“You missing out on making money this morning?” I wave at the windshield and the snow on the road.
“From?”
“Plowing?”
“Oh. No, I don’t do it for cash. Just our driveway and a few of the neighbors’. Already did my rounds this morning. I’ll hit ’em again later.”
“Just doing it out of the kindness of your heart?” Maybe the entire world hasn’t gone to shit while I was inside.
He scowls but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “I live in my grandparent’s house. A few of their friends are still around but can’t do the shoveling or whatever.” He shrugs. “Takes me an extra couple minutes.”
Not what I expected from such a cocky kid. But I trust my club’s judgment a lot more.