Page 61 of Awry
She grabs a handful of my fries, dropping them beside the remains of her salad.They’re lukewarm now, but still tasty.Also, I have half a plate left, so she can have as many as she wants.
“Fuck, fuck,” she mutters to herself, still outright stuffing her mouth and speaking around half-chewed food.The so-called ill manners don’t make her any less naturally compelling, though.“You’re not going to let me escort you back to the motel.”
There it is.She’s on orders to guard me, maybe even assure my compliance.I’ve pissed someone off while yanking Presh off her destined path, hence my waking up to the tracking software embedded into my phone and the blatant search of my personal property.But I can’t remember much of what transpired at the motel.I remember Doc, Grinder, and at least one ridiculously huge, stupidly pretty, and completely pissy brother.A biker — roaring motorcycle, patched leather jacket, tattoos, and all.
The brother I definitely communicated with, if you can call it that, was the one called Rath.I think?He was the voice on the line during the earlier phone calls.He’d been pissy with me then too.Aggressively so.
And Muta?Maybe Muta bit someone?
That’s usually enough to seriously piss people off.
“I’m not going back to the motel.”
“Well …” she huffs.“I don’t have a car, so …”
I shrug.Then, confirming that I really, actually like her — highly unusual for me — I offer her a grin.“The universe will provide.”
Cayley snorts doubtfully, shaking her head.
We eat the rest of our meals in silence, though I can still feel the connection between us.It’s settled, but every now and then, she gives it a tug.I doubt she knows she’s doing so.More likely, she’s building up a series of questions, and every time she thinks of articulating one or more of them, she doesn’t actually do so?It could also have something to do with the extra abilities that come with her kitsune nature.
Outside the diner, a brown-haired woman driving a gorgeous 1976 Chevrolet Corvette, custom-painted a high-gloss teal blue but with the original buckskin tan interiors, pulls up to the curb, illegally parking.
A For Sale sign is tucked in the side window of the car.
“Ask and you shall receive,” I say, smiling.And just a little bit cocky.
Cayley glances outside — then swears viciously under her breath.“You, maybe.Me?Not so much.”
With Cayley tracking her every move, the newcomer pops out of the vehicle — literally.Pertly bobbing, she practically skips across the sidewalk and into the diner.She’s holding a printout of some sort, with tear-off tabs along the edge.She’s curvy and seriously perky.
I can’t figure out without taking a closer look whether Cayley hates her or wants to fuck her.Or maybe both?The kitsune shifter moves uncomfortably in her seat, then places both hands flat on the tabletop as if trying to hold herself still.
I slide out of my own seat while Cayley is distracted.Then I’m within a step of the new arrival, who is surveying the bulletin board beside the diner’s front door, before the kitsune shifter can catch up to me.
The newcomer rearranges a few items on the corkboard, stealing some space for the sale flyer she’s printed out, along with some pushpins.
I save her the trouble.
“Has it been converted?”
The perky woman flinches as though she hasn’t heard me approach.But when she whirls around, her gaze goes straight to Cayley over my shoulder, so I know it’s partly an act.
“Harls,” Cayley all but snarls in greeting.“This is Zaya.That car isn’t yours to sell.”
Harls squares her shoulders and lifts her chin.“My name is Harlee Kimberly Larson, not Harls, and it’s on the ownership papers.”
“For insurance purposes.”
Naturally, I’ve gotten myself tangled in something that’s more than it seems.I’m not certain why I insist on being surprised when it happens, even without being guided by a knowing.
I tug the flyer out of Harlee’s hand, scanning it for pertinent details while she and Cayley have a short but intense staring contest.The asking price for the car seems a bit low as best I can tell, but the classic has been fuel converted.
“I’ll take it.”
“What!?”Cayley cries.
“Really?”Harlee blinks as if she’s seeing me for the first time.Then she glances between me and Cayley, slowly narrowing her eyes.
