Page 25 of Dark Alleys

No Harley in the yard.

The rapist wasn’t here.

The gate squeaked open, and I walked to the door. Knocked twice and an old lady opened it a crack. She looked scared so I showed her my badge. “Akito here, ma’am?”

“He’s at work.”

“Where does he work?”

“At the big Amazon warehouse.”

“I know where that is.”

“Is my grandson in trouble with the police?” Her voice trembled and I felt sorry for her.

“Just need to ask him a couple of questions.”

“He’s working steady, and I don’t want trouble.”

“No trouble, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

Amazon Warehouse. North Austin.

The place was goddamned huge. I parked my truck in an area marked for visitors, then I hoofed it a quarter fuckin’ mile to the employees parking lot and strolled through rows and rows of cars, trucks, bikes, vans.

Hundreds of people worked in that warehouse. Might even be thousands. If I could get the bike tagged, I’d be ahead of the game, but there were too fuckin’ many vehicles here for me to look through. I’d have better luck at the clubhouse.

Out of breath when I got back to my truck, and it soon would be time for more meds and more sleep.

I’ve got to take care of myself and get home. I start bleeding again and that doc is gonna fuckin’ kill my ass.

Riverside District. Austin.

By the time I got to my little home away from home, I was late taking my meds, and I was paying for it. My arm throbbed and I could barely keep my eyes open.

When Blacky and I had our last little talk, he was right about one thing—he said I shouldn’t be working.

I took the meds and before I laid my head down, I checked again for a text from Regan.

Nothing.

Felt let down when she didn’t say something to me. Didn’t care what the fuck she said, I just wanted her to say it. That would mean she was thinking about me. Made me sad because she wasn’t.

I wanted Regan to text me, but I hardly ever texted her. I pulled out my cell and typedtext me, then closed my eyes and went to sleep.

Another huge sleep—thanks to the mega-powered pills, but I needed it. I had work to do and I couldn’t do it feeling weak as a dead kitten.

When I got up and shook off the groggy effect of the meds, I made myself a sandwich and drank a cold Coke.

Feeling better, I cleaned up a lot and checked my cell for messages.

Still no text.

Not happy.

Dragons’ Clubhouse. Downtown, Austin.

I drove downtown to the new home of the Dragons and parked far enough away that the stink of the dumpsters didn’t get on my truck.

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