Page 31 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
She hesitates.“Maybe.It’s not a big deal.”
I already know what Makayla does for income, and she hasn’t been shy on sharing what she does with me.“Everything’s a big deal in your world.”
She sighs, sitting up and reaching for her clothes.“It’s just a drop.Quick and easy.I’ll be back before you miss me.”
I pull on my jeans.“I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t need to—”
“Not asking,” I cut in.“It’s late, you’re going to some shady spot, and I don’t trust half the idiots who operate in this city.I’m coming.”
She studies me for a beat, then shrugs.“Suit yourself.”
I know exactly who she’s meeting—one of my guys.He’ll make the handoff, confirm the quantity, and report straight back to me.Makayla doesn’t need to know that part.By the time we head out, she thinks I’m just playing the overprotective boyfriend.And maybe I am.But I’m also making sure every move she makes is one step deeper into my game.
The meet’s in a parking lot on the edge of downtown, the kind of place that looks deserted until you realize there are eyes everywhere.Makayla’s driving, I’m riding shotgun, watching her drum her fingers on the wheel like she’s just here to pick up a pizza.We spot the car—dark sedan, windows tinted.One of my guys.
“You sure you don’t wanna just wait here?”she asks.
I open my door.“Not a chance.”
We walk over together.The guy steps out, gives Makayla a chin lift.She hands over the cash, he pops the trunk, and she leans in to check the product.Clean, quick, no drama.Exactly like I told him.
Then the floodlights hit.“Police!Hands where I can see them!”
Makayla freezes, turns to me with wide eyes.I raise my hands slow, calm.No sudden moves.
Ethan’s the first out of the unmarked unit, badge flashing, jaw tight enough to crack.“Well, well.Look what we’ve got here.”
“Evening, brother-in-law,” I say lightly.
“Cut the shit, bitch.”Ethan takes out his handcuffs and puts them on me like he just won the lottery.“You’re under arrest.”
“For what?”I ask.“Standing next to someone making a poor life choice?”
He glares at me but looks to his guys.“Separate them.”
The officer pats me down, finds nothing—because there’s nothing to find.Not on me.Not in my pockets.
“Clean,” the cop says.
I glance at Ethan.“Hate to break it to you, but you can’t cuff someone just because you don’t like ‘em.”
Makayla’s already in tears as they put her in the back of a cruiser.She’s yelling ‘I’m so sorry, Cam!’ and ‘Help me, Cam!’ with a sprinkle of, ‘Don’t tell our parents, Ethan!’ Ethan’s breathing hard, wanting so badly for me to slip.
I lean in just close enough for only him to hear.“You know what’s worse than catching me dirty, Ethan?Catching me clean.”
His nostrils flare, but he steps back.“Get him out of my sight.”
I’m escorted to another cruiser, not even glancing back.Because I know what he’s thinking—how much he wants to bury me—and how much it’s going to kill him that tonight that he can’t.
~~~~~~
THEY’VE GOT ME IN THEholding area, not a cell.Separate from Makayla.It’s not my first rodeo, so I’m sitting back, legs stretched, hands loose on my knees while the cops do their paperwork shuffle.The air smells like sweat, bad breath, and burnt coffee.
Across the way, Ethan’s in a huddle with Lisa, voice low but hot enough I can taste the irritation.I already know the verdict before they call me over.
“Page,” one of the uniforms says, “you’re free to go.”
