Page 23 of Sweet Pea

“Sorry. It’s hard not to feel a little...well, naked like this.” I said.

“Good, then you know how I fuckin’ feel.”

“What do you mean?”

“Callie, you said I avoid questions about myself, but you already have a file on me. You had an investigator spy on me and dig into my past. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

“Yes, and I feel bad.”

“You’ve had the upper hand since we met, and that’s not something I’m used to or comfortable with. I shouldn’t have to be the only one who’s an open book here.”

“Does getting me into bed balance the scales?” I asked, once again reaching for the sheets.

“Don’t do that,” he said, “And don’t put words in my mouth.”

Once again, as much as I fought the urge, I could only think about everything of mine I’d enjoy putting in his mouth.

“All I’m saying is, you know a hell of a lot about me, and I know next to nothing about you.”

“I don’t think that’s fair,” I said. “I think I made myself pretty vulnerable when I offered you money to...you know.”

“Kill John Knight,” Sweet Pea said plainly.

“Shhhhhh. I never said I wanted you to kill him,” I whispered.

“We’ll get back to that. I’m not done talking about the file.”

“I told you why I had it and that I was sorry. Plus, I gave it back to you,” I reminded him.

“But you read it, and something in that file convinced you that I could be hired to do your dirty work.”

“It’s not like I read your diary or something. Most of the file is made up of records of Charles Kimble, which abruptly cut off at age fourteen.”

“I’m quite aware of when Charles Kimble died,” he said.

“But he didn’t die. He just vanished one day. The Kimble family gave vague excuses regarding his absence from the public eye, until one day, the public simply stopped asking altogether. And now I find out you’re here, in Portland.”

“You make me sound like the goddamned Lindbergh baby. Plenty of kids leave home and don’t go back.”

“So, you’re saying it’s normal for both sons of a prominent business tycoon to leave home as teenagers and join a biker gang?”

“I don’t know about normal, but it’s what happened.”

“What about everything and everyone you left behind?”

“The only person that I left behind that matters is Charles Kimble.”

“Please let me assure you. There’s nothing normal about wiping your identity and walking away from a family fortune.”

“So, you figured I must be some sort of ghost assassin for hire? Is that what your private dick told you? If so, you need to ask him for your money back.”

“What my investigator came back with has nothing to do with why I asked you for help with Knight,” I replied.

“Then why did you come to me?”

“Because you ride with the Burning Saints.”

“So, I’m in a club? Big deal.”

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