Page 52 of Junkyard Dog

The texts were worse.

Exaggerated disappointment that he’d left early.

That whoever the sender was had gone to bed alone. And that one was accompanied by a photo.

Promises to stop by his work.

His stomach knotted, the blood draining from his face as he checked the time stamps of the messages.

There was no way Charlotte hadn’t seen at least one of them.

He tapped her name and listened as her number went straight to voice mail, her phone unreachable until she left work at the end of her shift.

Rising to his feet, he did a final walk-though of the apartment, scanning for a note that might clue him in to how deep he’d dug himself.

Nothing.

Flipping the lock on her door, he began the long walk home, his wallet tucked safely between the seats of an SUV that was parked at some woman’s apartment complex. Patting his pockets, he looked up and cursed into the bright sunlight.

Wherever his SUV was parked, his keys were located somewhere in that building.

He dialed Bo’s number, dodging a blue car as he crossed the street. When Bo answered, his words still heavily slurred, he sighed. “Where the hell are you?”

“Lemme find out,” Bo replied, yelling into the faint din coming through the speaker. He parroted the address, correcting himself twice before getting it right.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” he said, flashing back to the hundreds of times he and Bo had done this dance. “Find my keys and meet me downstairs.”

“Will do.” Bo laughed at something murmured in the background. “Allison wants you to come up.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Just meet me downstairs in twenty, okay?”

*

Charlotte glared atMax, wanting nothing more than to knock his stupid sunglasses off his face. “You guys seem to have it all worked out, don’t you?” She slumped back in the passenger seat and looked out at the empty campground.

“Alex played wingman for me before and it didn’t bother you. So what’s the problem now?” Max asked, stuffing a piece of beef jerky into his mouth. “He’s really good at the whole wingman gig.”

Because you and Alex don’t have a tag-team routine down pat?

Because I know now why he’s so good at it?

“I’m just annoyed,” she grumbled. “When Alex is with you, you guys are right there in front of me, not drinking your faces off at some chick’s place until six a.m.”

Max nodded. “Fair enough.Ifyou two were an actual couple. But you’re not. Sorry, Chuck, but you don’t get a say in this.” He examined another piece of jerky before shoving it in his mouth and wove them through the park, stopping periodically to check in with a tourist or pick up a stray plastic bag until they reached headquarters and she jumped into her own truck, eager to spend some quiet time alone.

Max was half right. She had no business being angry about what had gone down after Alex left the Washout. But she was. She was angry and hurt and no rational explanation of their quasi-relationship was going to erase it.

Alex’s phone had pinged all morning while she got ready for work, lodged between her bed frame and mattress.

She hadn’t intentionally looked at the screen as she dropped it between his sneakers.

But even now, the image of Alex’s tongue running across the outstretched hand of some strange woman was crystal clear.

Shaking the vision from her head, she made her way to the Keys and got out, scanning the area for hikers until a familiar form breached the horizon.

“Hey, Butch!” she called out, crouching down and extending her hand for him to examine. The beast padded through the sand toward her, circling her before he backed away and cocked his head. “Where’ve you been, huh, boy? And where’s that collar and leash? You know you’ll be taken in as a stray if you don’t keep that on,” she cooed, rising up and leaning through her truck window to grab something for him to eat. “It’s not steak, but you might like it anyway.”

Butch approached the beef jerky, his nose twitching before he drew his lips back and plucked the offering from her hand. She bit back a smile as the dog began chewing the tough meat, his concentration wholly focused on shredding the jerky enough to swallow it.

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