Page 21 of Sweet
Spider was renting from Bill, but it wasn’t like they had a contract or anything. He paid cash and he didn’t have a lease. Bill could kick Spider out at any time. Was he going to fire him? He didn’t think Bill would fire him for dating the Rivera’s daughter, but there was no telling. Ruby and Imelda were tight.
Tia Imelda didn’t mind that you like Daisy.
Yeah, there was looking and then there was reality. Tias could be romantics; parents, not so much.
He followed Bill back into the bookkeeping office where Ruby was usually tapping away on the computer. Today Ruby wasn’t there, and Bill shut the door behind them.
His boss was a barrel-chested man with bright white hair that was slicked back and a full beard that fell to his chest. He looked like an old biker because he was one. Spider didn’t think Bill was in an MC, but he probably knew guys who were, which was always why Spider had assumed Bill was cool about not asking too many questions about his past.
“Everything okay?” Spider tried not to panic.
Bill motioned him toward a chair. “Sit down, son. I wanted to ask the same thing about you.”
“Why?” Spider gripped the arms of his chair. “Did you hear something?”
“You know Manuel Jimenez out in Oakville?”
“I heard of him.” Oakville was a small community in the foothills east of Metlin. “He’s a pretty good artist, I hear.”
“Good guy too.” Bill stroked his beard. “Couple of guys came out to Manuel’s place asking about you.”
“About me?”
Bill nodded. “Manuel’s your given name, right? The one on your state license?”
Spider felt his heart start to pound. “Yeah, it is.” And now a couple of guys were coming around another Manuel’s place, looking for a tattoo artist named Spider. “They cause any problems for Manuel?”
Bill frowned and shook his head. “Nah, he’s fine. Didn’t even faze him; he’s cool.”
Spider shifted in his seat. “Did he—?”
“Didn’t say anything to them about you. He knows you’re one of my guys.”
The ball of tension in his chest loosened a little, but it didn’t unknot. “Do I need to take off?” There was a drumbeat in his head. He could be gone in fifteen minutes. Five minutes to run to the apartment, ten minutes to pack and be gone.
“Do youwantto take off?” Bill leaned forward. “I know you don’t have a record because I checked. Is there anything outstanding—?”
“I haven’t done anything other than working off the books since I was seventeen.” Spider looked him in the eye. “Nothing, I promise.”
“Anyone out there looking for revenge or some shit like that?”
“No.” He folded his hands. “It wouldn’t be for revenge. I didn’t steal anything. I don’t owe anyone nothing. It’s just… I didn’t ask permission, you know? To leave.”
Because no one was ever going to give Spider permission to exit gang life. It didn’t work that way.
“I see.” Bill sat back. “Do you want to leave town? If you need cash, I can pay you in advance.”
Spider looked at Bill’s kind expression and suddenly realized the man looked like Santa Claus. No wonder his grandkids were nuts about him.
Spider looked at his hands; he’d covered the worst of the scars with ink, but they were still there underneath. “I don’twantto leave, but I don’t want to make trouble for you or anyone else, you know?”
He thought about Betsy and Emmie first. Emmie wouldn’t understand; Betsy would. Bill and Ruby. Frank Juarez, the rancher who’d hired him at Betsy’s request, no questions asked. Mrs. Juarez still made tamales for Spider at Christmas.
Daisy. Fucking Daisy Rivera.
Princesa, I told you it wouldn’t work.
“Hey, man.” Bill leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the desk. “As far as I know, no one has come to Metlin looking around. I’d know if anyone was asking. Why don’t you just wait and see, okay? Take it easy. Lie low—not like you don’t do that already, but maybe don’t hang at the Ice House with the guys for a while. Let me put out some feelers and see what comes back.”
