Page 104 of Junkyard Dog

“You shouldn’t be joking about it,” she admonished, her eyes darting among the dancers. “Especially not in public.”

“They aren’t paying any attention to us.” He chuckled. “Besides, I don’t want to know the answer.”

The song ended, a shrill guitar riff signaling the start of the next one. He released her, the loss of the warmth of her hands on his neck immediately noticeable as he followed her off the floor, grabbing her hand before they reached the table. “I’m going to head out.”

She looked up at him in confusion. “Why?”

“Because right now, I’m in a good zone. The ball’s still in your court, even if Max tried to force a serve.” He glanced over at Max, grinning when Max gave him a crude gesture. “Have fun tonight and try to keep that Neanderthal out of trouble.”

She tucked her hands into her back pockets. “’Night, Alex.”

*

Charlotte toweled herhair off and flopped onto the sofa, flicking on the television to keep her company in the darkness. It had been an ordeal, but she’d gotten Max safe and sound to his apartment, even going so far as to remove his shoes for him when he fell facedown onto his bed.

Her duty was done.

She fired off a quick text to Jonas to remind him Becky had his car keys before she settled back in the cushions and tapped on Alex’s name.“So is there an application process to get into the whole guard dog thing?”

Forcing her attention to the TV, she held her phone in a death grip until it buzzed.

“Informal interview with an observation component. You interested?”

She hesitated for a moment.“I have some questions.”

Little bubbles rippled across her messenger app as he took his time responding.“Of course you do. Call?”

Without thinking, she opened his contact info and placed the call, holding her breath until she heard his voice. “So are these questions numbered?”

“Hi to you, too,” she grumbled. “Number one. What happens when you track down the last guy?”

He went quiet for a moment. “Technically, it means a return to the underworld for a reassignment. But I have it on good authority I may be granted a bit of a reprieve.”

“So there’s a good chance you’ll just poof away,” she stated, her voice flat despite the sinking in her stomach. “Which would pretty much nullify any other questions I have.”

“There’s a chance anyone could poof away,” he argued. “Hell, you could be killed on the highway to wor—You know what? I can’t go there. Yeah, there’s a chance I could lose my request for release.”

She pushed herself up against the armrest. “Okay. We’ll leave that in the irrelevant pile.” Alex grunted in response, his mood obviously souring from earlier in the night. “Question two. Do you age?”

“That’s a tough one,” he muttered, cursing quietly as something clattered in the background. “In the underworld, no. Here, yes, but at a reduced speed. And the longer I go between visits to hell, the faster I age topside. Make sense?”

“So in twenty years, you’ll look like you’re in your forties if you stay here,” she clarified, unsure why it mattered so damn much.

He chuckled. “I suppose you looking ahead twenty years bodes okay for me. Yeah, I’ll probably be graying. Maybe sporting a beer gut, too. Next question.”

Staring blankly at the TV, she frowned. “Actually, I don’t think I have another.”

“Then it’s my turn,” he countered. “Come over.”

Her brows shot up. “That’s not a question.”

“Fine. Come over, please?” he amended.

She paused.

The debate had been long over in her heart, but her head was struggling to keep up. “I need to think about it.”

“Don’t bother.”

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