Page 12 of Driftwood Daffodil

“Little girls shouldn’t be so rude.”

Little girls? Okay, this guy was starting to piss me off.

“Look Fabio…” That’s as far as I got.

As I raised my hand to point at him, my sister appeared from around the corner and grabbed my arm.

“What took you so long?”

Why the hell was she in such a hurry? God forbid she was two minutes late to pick up Knox.

Veda dragged me away while the asshole in the door called out, “you might want to let your sister drive.”

I glared over my shoulder, “And you might want to get a better suit. No one wears black anymore.”

Did I care about the current fashion trends, hell no. I couldn’t have cared in the least, nor did I know what color was in right now. But he seemed like the type of guy who would care.

“Nova,” Veda scolded while pushing me towards the driver’s door. “Just, get in the truck.”

I grumbled under my breath and hoped in behind the steering wheel, but not before I flipped doorway asshole off.

GIOVANNI

There was one thing most people in this world had in common, a lack of respect. Take a gator for example. They were fierce creatures that could tear apart a two hundred pound man in minutes, yet people still infringed on their domains.

So many deaths could’ve been avoided by that one simple word. A man could be rich, poor, or the baddest motherfucker out there. None of it mattered if he didn’t have respect.

My eyes followed the tip of a dark green tail as it flipped, then disappeared in the water. This particular gator had been staring at me for about fifteen minutes. Still as he was, I could see his eyes popping up above the waterline. He didn’t come upon shore or anywhere near me. He just stayed where he was, watching. It was as if he could already smell the blood in the air.

Shifting my gaze, I looked towards the right at the second story of a house barely visible through the trees.

Why would anybody build their home this close to the bayou? It might have something to do with the two guys I’d seen earlier carrying rifles. Hunters would be my guess. Or poachers. Didn’t really give it much thought after they took off on their boat. Nor did I care to.

There was only one reason I was sitting in my Range Rover tucked in the trees. Business. Simon Fisher owed my friends and I money. How he cleared his debt didn’t matter to me. He was the one that placed the bets and he was the one that was going to pay them off. If he had to do that with a broken leg, well, so be it.

Wouldn’t be the first time I beat someone down, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Simon had more than enough time and I was done with his excuses. At this point it was a matter of respect. Something that slimy little weasel clearly didn’t have.

Sighing, I glanced down at my watch.

Where the fuck were they?

We said ten o’clock. It was almost ten thirty. If Atlee was wasting my time because of pussy again, I was going to kick his ass.

“Fuck this,” I growled and pulled out my phone just as bight beams of headlights cut through the darkness.

A familiar silver Audi rolled through the trees.

Fucking finally.

I shook my head as the hood bobbed with a dip in the road. It wasn’t a surprise that they came in Darius’s car, but Atlee’s truck would’ve been a much better choice for this run down dirt plane. Darry called me a control freak, yet he insisted on driving. He was not on good terms with motor vehicles. Cursed was more like it. I stopped counting the accidents he’d been in.

The ironic thing was not a single one was his fault. I think the car gods just had it out for him. Or someone else did? I was looking into it.

I climbed out, walked around to the back of my Rover, and folded my arms across my chest.

Darry responded by giving his dark eyes an exaggerated roll, before opening the driver’s door and stepping out.

“Sorry,” his chin tipped towards the passenger side, “Apparently Atlee had something to do.”

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