Page 25 of Has-Been
“Oh, now you show up. Now you bother to come and offer help, just when I’m nearly done. How fucking helpful of you.” Jesus, tell me you’re not using again, bro.
“Sorry, got sent out to do some DIY.”
He quirked a snarky brow at me.
“Yeah, I know, your girlfriend comes first, right?”
What the fuck?!
“I get that you’re pissed and tired, but don’t do that. I was helping out the club, like we’re all doing. Now give me something to do.”
He glanced pointedly at his empty mug.
“Wouldn’t say no to a coffee.”
“You probably should, man. You look like shit. Did you even eat?”
He flipped me off. “Lissa came by and made me eat something, yeah.” TMI, man.
“Charming. I’m sorry I asked.”
He groaned, rubbing his eyes with both palms.
“Jesus. Yeah, that sounded bad, but sadly that’s not what I meant. She brought food for me, and she tried to tell me to lay off the coffee. I’ll be honest with you, this shit was easier when I was using. I can’t get as many hours out of the day like this.”
“Staying clean is more important than anything, brother. Is that uh… is that Elise’s phone?”
Ice kicked the chair out opposite him, which meant I couldn’t see the screens, but whatever. I sat down, and reached for the phone, but he dragged it out of reach.
“Pretty sure she wouldn’t want you in her shit, man, no matter whether you’re fucking or not.”
I fucking wish. “We’re not. Stop saying crap like that, before you cause another shitstorm on top of the ones we already have.”
He was twirling her phone in his hand, a sly look on his face.
“I know everything about her now, man. I know what she likes and dislikes. What she reads. What she watches.Everything.”
I reached for the phone again and he dodged me.
“Nice try, fucker. You should ask her about herGooglehistory, that’s all I’m saying.”
What the fuck did that even mean? Still, pushing him for answers would be playing along, and I wasn’t in the mood to feed his desire to fuck with me.
“You found out who sent the messages and called her?”
His face turned serious and he slammed the phone down on the desk.
“Nope. I mean, he sent more of that twisted shit, even while I was working on it, but no. It’s a burner, and it’s blocked from any of my tracking apps, so he could be in this fucking room right now and I’d be none the wiser. Some of the messages though… they sound like it’s someone who knows her from back home, or even school or college. This person doesn’t know where she is right now, so that says it’s probably not someone here, right?”
I leaned on my elbows.
“Or they’re trying to throw us off the scent, by pretending that’s the case.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, or it’s that. Tell me something, bro. Why the fuck did Stitch tell me to snoop through your phone too? Does he think I have nothing better to do all day, than waste time looking into people who definitely aren’t killers? I don’t have time for this shit.”
“Thank you.”
He slid my own phone back to me.
