Page 96 of Lake
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lake
Sketch and I headed out later that night. We rode to a section of town that I’d only passed through a couple of times.
“You good, man?” I asked after we dismounted and I noticed his face was a little harder than normal.
Sketch was fun. Playful. A flirt in the worst kind of way. Some might have called him a dog and a manwhore but he was never dishonest or misleading about his intentions.
He looked at me, his eyes flaming with a crazy intensity.
“I’m gonna say this once and I mean no disrespect. I lead the way. I ask the questions. And I ain’t talking about shit so don’t even fucking think of asking. Got me?”
I studied him long and hard. Somehow the light and fun Sketch was gone, long tucked away as his past came nipping at his heels.
I hated this.
I suddenly didn’t want to ask him to go this far.
But it had to be done.
“I got you,” I said softly with a nod.
“Okay. Let’s get it done.”
He said it like this was something that would be over quickly. I knew it wouldn’t and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be something we’d be able to finish tonight.
My fingers slipped under my shirt, feeling for the smooth metal of my gun tucked into the waistband in the back of my jeans. Only it didn’t bring me any kind of comfort as we walked down a nearly pitch black alleyway.
Grunts and scuffling filled the air the deeper we went.
My gut twisted and I tried my hardest not to wonder about the things that I was sure Sketch didn’t want me to.
But they were there, the questions that I pretty much promised I wouldn’t ask.
It was behind a dumpster that Sketch and I found a disgustingly obese man, his slacks pushed down to his knees and it was clear by the way his hips were moving what was going on.
“What the fuck?” the man barked, startled that we’d come upon him.
“Take a fuckin’ hike, asshole,” Sketch growled.
“Hey,” a softer voice said. It sounded young, I would have said a boy in his mid to late teens. “You can’t just come in here and do that. Fucking dick. Mister wait.”
I couldn’t believe he was calling after the fat man as he ran away like his dick was on fire.
“You fuckin’ owe me money!” the kid roared and he started to chase after the man.
“Kid,” Sketch said, snatching him by the arm to keep him from getting away.
“Let me the fuck go, now. I’ll gut you, asshole.”
The kid struggled but was no match for Sketch.
“Here,” Sketch said pulling out a twenty dollar bill from his front pocket like he’d had it ready for this moment. He held it out as he released the kid.
The kid’s eyes were desperate but distrusting. He didn’t take the money right away even though I could tell his body was ready to snatch it and run away.
I wanted to know how old he was.
