Page 52 of Hard to Love
“And since you’re here, you can take the pictures whileI double-check paperwork.” She passed him her smartphone with a sweet smile edged with shark’s teeth. “Let’s do this so everyone can settle in and get to work.”
While Greer was greeting the next entrant, Alex used her distraction as an opportunity to add his number to the favorites list in her phone. Holcombe might have backed down just now, but he didn’t trust that guy.
Since he wasn’t workingthe streets tonight, Nic was sprawled out on José’s couch watching a movie, but his friend had disappeared into the back of the house half an hour ago mumbling something about doing homework. Whatever. Things had been a little tense between them after the warehouse incident. Nic had come away from it with bits of gravel embedded in his arms and one elbow that wouldn’t bend without pain for a week. He and José had both worn blobs of paint on their clothes from spray cans hitting the ground.
“Hey,” he called, “you gonna come watch this?”
Silence from down the hall. Maybe José had fallen asleep. Or maybe…
Shit.
Nic jumped off the couch and slid on the floor in his socks. Hopping on one leg and then the other, he pulled off the damn things to get some traction. Sure enough, when he raced to José’s room, it was empty.
All the Spanish cuss words he’d ever heard from his older brothers and on the streets rolled through Nic’s mind. José had promised no more risky shit like that. Where would…
Desmadre.Fucking disaster. José had been talking about tagging the San Antonio Public Library for weeks. Said that expanse of red would be perfect for a mini-mural.Even after Nic had said no more, maybe the temptation had been too strong to resist.
He would tear into José’s ass for this.
By the time he was able to bum a ride to north of the Riverwalk, it was already after nine o’clock, which meant the library was locked up tight. Nic circled the massive building and, sure enough, José had found a small inset up high that wasn’t lit by the surrounding light fixtures and was dangling by a rope that looked even sketchier than the one they’d left behind the other night.
He didn’t want to yell and draw attention, but he needed to get José the hell down from there. Nic scooped up a rock from a flower bed, cocked his arm, and let it fly, aiming just left of José.
Shit, too low.
He tried again, and this time, he was able to rocket the stone close enough to José.
José twirled around on the rope and glared down at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass,” Nic said, cupping his hands around his mouth, trying to contain the sound. “You said you wouldn’t do this anymore.”
“No, you told me I couldn’t anymore. There’s a big difference. We might be friends and you might be older than me, but that doesn’t mean you’re my boss.”
“Come down and we’ll talk about it.”
“Not until I finish—”
José’s attention shifted beyond Nic, and the sound of sirens split the air. The screech of tires and stink of rubber on asphalt rose up, and Nic’s stomach did a slow roll. A cop popped out of the passenger side and pinned Nic with a hostile stare. “Don’t move. On the ground.”
Nic wanted to be a smartass and ask which he reallywanted, but this wasn’t about just him. Down he went, his cheek against the cooling concrete, and he couldn’t help thinking of José’s artwork on that warehouse.
While one cop was cuffing Nic, the other yelled up at José, “Lower yourself to the ground nice and slow. Don’t try to jerk us around.”
“Let him go,” José called, beginning to come down the side of the building. “This isn’t his fault. I don’t even know him.”
Passenger-side cop asked Nic, “That guy your friend?”
José was a lot more than that, but Nic just grunted, “Yeah.”
“Well, son, that makes you an accessory to vandalism.”
By this time, José’s feet had hit the sidewalk, and driver-side cop said, “Face down on the ground like your buddy.”
There was no hesitation. José assumed the position, hands to lower back.
As the cop started reciting Miranda rights, all Nic could think about was how in the name of the Virgin Mary he was going to get José out of this mess.
Greer hadn’t consideredhow having all these people in the barn would impact Alex’s living conditions until they’d begun showing up and the noise level had gone off the charts. She quickly updated the competition rules and made copies. Artists would not be permitted in their booths before 6 a.m. and couldn’t stay after 11 p.m.
