Chapter 16
KNIGHT
“No Hollywood? I thought we were taking everyone on this field trip.”
Joyride’s tone dripped with sarcasm as I slid into the front seat. Ghost being Ghost, he took the back and was happy for it. He snorted with amusement at Joy’s words.
“Don’t humor him,” I shot back at Ghost. “He’s a punk.”
He shrugged and gazed out the window, unconcerned.
Joy snickered. “This punk is driving, so don’t piss me off. You all know why I went to prison.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you steal this Hummer?”
“No, and that’s not the real reason I went away,” he said darkly. “I fucked up and crashed.”
“Well, please don’t crash the car,” I said dryly.
“Yeah, I won’t.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Crash would have been a much cooler nickname, though.”
“Too late now, kid. You’ll always be Joy to me.”
He groaned. “I can’t decide if it’s better or worse when you shorten it like that.”
“Better than calling you Ride,” Ghost uttered.
I laughed as Joy scowled into the rearview mirror. “Now you speak up. I think I liked you better silent.”
I flicked his ear with a finger, making him cringe and swerve. Thankfully, we were cruising ten miles per hour down the trailer park’s quiet road. “Ow! I’m driving here!”
“Ghost is already too damn quiet. Don’t be suggesting he talk less.”
He huffed. “Fine. Whatever.”
We rolled to a stop at the exit to the park, and he flipped on a blinker. We turned onto the highway, and I was relieved to find that Joy—despite the horrific accident that sent him to prison—was a good driver.
“So, you never said why Hollywood didn’t come,” Joyride said. “And please don’t hit me again.”
“I didn’t hit you. I flicked. That’s what you do with little punks.”
“Well, don’t do that on the highway unless you really want me to wreck this car, too. Then you’ll be responsible for me going back to prison, and we know how much you don’t want that. Right, Ghost?”
Ghost chuckled. “Kid ain’t wrong.”
He had my number. Yes, I looked out for my guys. I wasn’t ashamed of that.
“Holly’s got to work today.”
“Bullshit,” Joy said.
I nearly flicked him again. But he was right; making him flinch and swerve on the highway wasn’t a good idea.
“Fine, it’s bullshit. Holly has personal issues with Tex. He thinks we should leave well enough alone.”
“That was my vote too,” Ghost said mildly.
I twisted in the seat to look at him. “Then why did you come?”
He shrugged. “You never know what he’s into. You might need backup.”
Joyride’s eyes narrowed. “Into? Like…trouble? Nobody said anything about trouble.”
“Relax. He went to his sister’s place. How much trouble could that be?”
Joyride muttered something under his breath. I turned on the radio, surfing stations until I found some classic rock.
“Ew. No.” Joy switched us to Bluetooth and called up his Spotify. Rap instantly blared out of the speakers. “Driver chooses the music.”
I turned down the volume. “Fine, but I refuse to get an ear bleed from you blasting it.”
Joy laughed. “Okay, old man. Whatever you say.”
I flipped him the bird as trees and fields flashed past the window.
Hayworth was only a little over an hour away, and we made good time. We entered the town on the northwest end. Joyride let me turn off Lil Wayne to enter the address Hollywood had given us into GPS. He might not be on speaking terms with Tex, but he knew him better than the rest of us.
I didn’t blame him for not coming. Tex had hurt him by running. But I hoped he could put that grudge aside, because I intended to bring Tex back into the fold if he let me.
“Take a right in six hundred feet,” a computerized female voice stated.
Joy flipped on the blinker, slowing to take the turn when we reached the intersection.
We passed through a little downtown made up of cute shops and restaurants, including a bar called Tracks that I’d visited once or twice. They got a lot of regional bands in to perform.
“I’m hungry,” Joy said as we passed Marcello’s Pizza Parlor. “Maybe we could stop for a slice?”
“No time. We have to track down Tex and get him to his meeting. We’ll grab something on the road.”
He grumbled. “I’m driving. The least you should do is feed me.”
I dug into my jeans pocket and came out with one of the butterscotch candies Aiden ate. “Here. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”
Joy eyed the candy. “Damn. You really are an old man. You know I was kidding about that, right? You don’t have to actually carry fuckin’ butterscotch candies.”
Ghost nearly busted a gut laughing in the back seat.
“Aiden keeps them around the house,” I muttered. “He’s younger than me! It’s just nice to have something to suck on when—”
“That’s what he said,” Joyride crowed.
“Jesus,” I muttered. I’d walked right into that one. But dick-sucking jokes were better than old-man ones.
Ghost patted my shoulder. “Welcome to fatherhood.”
“I knew I never wanted kids.”
Joyride grinned, looking happier than I’d ever seen him, though, so I wasn’t too upset about him giving me shit. Now, if we could just get our other wayward ex-con in line, I’d call it a good day’s work.
Hayworth was built around the university—and as such, there were a lot of nice, older neighborhoods full of two-story Colonial Revivals.
But as we got closer to Tex’s address, the housing shifted to smaller ranches and bungalows, some of them wearing their age like a faded gown that hadn’t been replaced in decades.
Naturally, there were a lot of upper-middle-class professors in this town, but to support a university, you also needed the groundskeepers, maintenance workers, and custodians.
Not to mention people to serve all the college kids hitting restaurants and bars.
We pulled up outside a pale blue—verging on gray—bungalow with a sagging porch. The yard was well-kept, and there were kids’ toys strewn across the porch: a scooter, a small bicycle, and a discarded jump rope among a few other toys.
“I’ll go to the door alone. I don’t want to overwhelm him with the whole welcome wagon.”
“I’m just the getaway driver,” Joyride said.
Ghost nodded from the back, but I hadn’t really expected him to argue. I opened the door and hopped out. I strolled up the sidewalk and took the two steps up onto the low porch.
I rapped on the screen door.
There was barking inside. A few voices that sounded like kids. The door swung open to show a five-year-old boy.
“Robbie, no!” A woman came up behind him, sweeping him away from the door. “I told you not to answer!”
“But—”
“No. Go to your room!”
He huffed, casting me a forlorn look, and trudged away. His mother eyed me with suspicion. “Just leave us alone. Hasn’t he done enough already?”
She started to close the door.
“Wait!” I called. “If Tex is in trouble, maybe I can help.”
She paused with the door halfway closed. “You’re here for Tex?”
“Yeah. He’s got a parole meeting. I just want to help him stay on the right path.”
She relaxed and pulled the door wider. “Sorry. I thought you were here about—” She shook her head. “Never mind. Tex isn’t here.”
“Do you know where I could find him?”
She sighed. “He’s probably at Keg Haus. It’s a pub that my, um, ex frequents. Tex has been keeping an eye on him.”
Something about her tone and averted glance told me that this ex was giving her trouble. Tex running out here was starting to make a lot more sense. It wasn’t at all the reason I’d guessed—or that Hollywood probably thought, either.
“Thank you, ma’am.” I hesitated. “If Tex leaves, will it put you at risk?”
She shook her head. “Tex can’t do anything around here but get himself into trouble. Tell him to go with my blessing.”
She closed the door, and I headed back to the Hummer. I hopped in.
“No luck?” Joy asked. “Can we get pizza now?”
“Tex is at Keg Haus. It’s a pub, so there’s probably food, but we have to get him over to Riverton by one-thirty.”
“Cool. I saw that place downtown.”
Joy pulled around the block and headed back the way we came. Five minutes later, we were turning down an alley and pulling into a parking lot behind the pub. It was more than half full, clearly a popular lunch spot.
We entered through the back door into a wide-open space with stained concrete floors that gave it a warehouse vibe and lots of wood that glowed as if freshly polished. A bar curved along the back wall, and high-backed wooden booths lined the walls.
“A yuppy bar,” Ghost said. “Great.”
“I was expecting more of a hole-in-the-wall,” I admitted. “But it’s a college town, so…”
A hostess with a brunette page cut greeted us with a smile. “Hi, how many?”
“We’re actually meeting a friend.” I scanned the room. “I see him over there. We’ll just seat ourselves, if that’s all right.”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll alert the server to bring you menus.”
I headed across the pub like I knew where I was going, but I hadn’t yet spotted Tex. I just didn’t want a hostess leading us around.
“There he is,” Ghost said. “Small table on the far side of the bar.”
I shifted my gaze, catching Tex’s glare. It wasn’t meant for us, though. I followed his hard stare to a group of rowdy men at a booth a few feet away.
That must be his sister’s ex and company.
“Well, let’s go see what kind of mess we’re walking in on,” I said grimly, starting toward Tex.
His gaze flicked up, and surprise flared in his eyes as he saw us approach.
He shook his head. “Fuck off, Knight. I’m not goin’ back.”
“No one’s asking you to go back.” Not yet, anyway. “We’re just here to get you to your parole meeting. No sense borrowing trouble, right?”
He lifted his pint glass and took a long swallow of beer. “No point to it.”
I pulled out a chair and sat. Joy followed my lead.
“What’s good to eat here?” He waved a hand to get the server’s attention. “Damn, I am starving.”
Tex sent me a disbelieving look. “Adopted the poor little rich kid, I see.”
“Hey, fuck you,” Joyride said almost cheerfully. “Better the rich kid than the runaway fuckup.”
“Joy,” I said warningly.
“What? He started it.”
“And we’re not children.”