Page 2 of Forgotten Comeback
Thankfully, John drops the subject, and we ride for a good clip in silence. I glance over to my big brother, the wheels in his mind spinning; always planning the next move. Been that way ever since we were kids. A good fucking thing, or we’d all be six feet under.
John idles the vehicle at the opposite end of the street from Corner Caffè.
“Now what?” I ask.
“And now we wait.”
Fine by me.
My eyes drift closed as I start to nod off, only to be jostled by a punch to the arm. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t fall asleep. We’ll only have a short window, and I need you to be ready.” John hands me a gun, and with a yawn, I pull back the safety. “What’s her name?” he asks, peering through binoculars.
“Who?”
John gives me a side eye. “You tell me; you’re the one who smells like pussy.”
“Fuck you.” And I’m still not exactly sure what her name is.
A blacked-out car rolls past us, snagging both of our attention.
It idles in front of the coffee shop as shots ring out, but from my angle, I can’t see what’s happening.
“Motherfucker,” John grits, still peering through the binoculars. “Somebody’s beat us to the punch.”
John tosses the binoculars as he slams on the gas, driving us in the opposite direction of the melee.
“Who?” It’s my turn to ask.
“No clue.” John smacks the steering wheel with a frustrated curse. “I would say the enemy of our enemy is our friend, but that ‘friend’ just stole vengeance that was ours.”
“We could take credit,” I throw out there.
John shakes his head. “Too risky. Romeo went down, but we don’t know if he’s dead. Taking credit for a botched hit would do nothing but give away our element of surprise.”
“Then what do we do?” I ask.
John pauses for a beat. “We wait and see how this shakes out.”
Chapter
One
Taylor
“Bill. Bill. Bill.” Each unopened envelope gets tossed on the kitchen counter. Opening them would ruin my day, and it’s way too early for that.
“Bonnie, you’re going to have to start earning your keep around here,” I tell my potted cactus. Checking the soil, it’s looking a bit dry, so I fill up a glass and give her a drink. “Ouch.” My thumb receives a prick, and I jerk back the water glass. “On second thought, you just sit there and look pretty.” She’s living up to her Orange Crown Cactus name: fiery orange flowers in full bloom. Not that I’d tell her that; she’s pretty vain.
Or that I would tellanyoneI have conversations with my opinionated house plant.
“Bye, Bonnie. I’m going to the gym.” I grab my bag and keys, locking up behind me.
Sliding behind the wheel of my car, I get my audiobook pulled up on my phone and continue from where I left off.
Oh, yes, Fathers!
My brows furrow. “Hold up. I need a diagram for all those body parts. Like, where is Father Paul’s dick in all this?”
