Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
DECLAN
Group text with Atlas, Xander, Declan, and Lincoln
Lincoln:
Bro.
Again??
Atlas:
Which bro?
Xander:
Not me.
Lincoln:
I’m talking about the troublemaking idiot who lives for antagonizing Starlight Cove’s sweet little librarian.
Atlas:
Jesus Christ, Dec.
Xander:
Wasn’t this an issue last week too?
Lincoln:
Try EVERY week. Dec’s been bored, I guess. Word on the street is that Sheriff McKenzie received his second call in 5 days about our very own black sheep.
Xander:
2 in a week?
Atlas:
That’s fucking ridiculous. Even for you, Dec.
Lincoln:
What’s ridiculous is that Mabel didn’t tell me herself. I had to hear it from my wife who heard it from Sutton who heard it from Chloe who heard it directly from that meddling woman’s mouth.
Xander:
Nothing to say, Dec?
Declan:
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Lincoln:
No? So the sheriff didn’t get a call about a motorcycle owned by one of the Steele brothers parked on the sidewalk in front of the library?
Declan:
I don’t have a ticket, do I?
Lincoln:
Uh huh. And how about the “dark, broody, tattooed menace”—Mabel’s words, not mine—seen slashing a tire the other night?
Declan:
You were there, dipshit. You already know the story. I wasn’t going to let the idiot drive drunk.
Atlas:
This is becoming a habit for you, Dec.
Declan:
Fuck off. Two bullshit instances doesn’t make it a habit.
Lincoln:
Dude. Are you serious?
Xander:
Do we really need to list all of them for you?
Lincoln:
I hope not. We’d be here for hours. Maybe even days.
Atlas:
I’ve got shit to do.
Declan:
Me too. So how about you fuckers shut the hell up for once?
Lincoln:
Sure thing.
But first…
I want to go on record by saying you’re playing with fire.
Now that Mabel’s involved, shit’s gonna get real.
And I, for one, can’t wait.