Page 38 of Roque

“Holy shit.” Tati breathed, as Roque unholstered a gun from apparently his ankle and checked the clip. The sliding of the rack brought back memories of Italy… of the life I left behind but still managed to hang on.

“Easy with that shit. If you fuck up my scholarship or chance to get drafted—”

“Relax, Le Blanc. I’ll buy a friggin’ NBA team and make you my star bitch.” Johnny snorted, peeling around a corner and pressing down on the gas.

“Jesus,” Le Blanc shut his eyes and put a hand to his temple. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up with these two assholes, baby.” He linked his hand with Tati’s.

I leaned over. “Help us get out of this mess, then,” I hissed.

“No can do. You’re his girl. And I might not look like one of the bad guys, but I roll with them.”

“Wannabe.”

He shrugged. “They got my back once and I never forgot it. It’s ride or die with them.”

I shivered. I wasn’t the only one who knew their dark secrets or saw the two devils sitting in front for exactly who they were. They sit side by side, broad shouldered and cocky as fuck driving us into god knows whatever mayhem lies ahead.

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