Page 336 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Yeah. Are we, like, feeding him and stuff? He looks hungry.”
Mac laughs. “If he hasn’t eaten, we’ll take him to breakfast with us, but we’re not adopting him.”
“Okay. I think I agreed to tattoo him last night,” I say as I pull Mac’s T-shirt over my head.
“Tattoo seems like a fair trade for him providing a little protection. And don’t think I don’t see you stealing my clothes, girl.”
I give him a wink as I pull on his sweater to cover the T-shirt I’ve stolen. “Protection? I’m not trying to be an asshole, Sir, but he doesn’t look like he could protect a loaf of bread.”
Mac snorts. “Give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s probably a prospect if Cinder’s assigning him guard-duty. Prospects are tougher than they look. They have to be, or they don’t last long.”
“Maybe he’s new,” I say, collecting my toiletry bag from the counter and stuffing it in my duffle. I look around, checking to make sure I haven’t left anything. “I’m ready. Maybe I should go hang out with the kid? I know guys your age are a little creaky in the morning. Takes geezers longer to get going.”
Mac unwinds a towel from around his neck and snaps it at my ass. “I’ll show you creaky.”
I laugh all the way out into the hallway.
eighteen
MAC
Taco,an unfortunate road name if I ever heard one and evidently arising from a puking incident, is a decent kid.
He’s a year or two younger than Naomi but looks like he still has some growing to do to catch up with his puppy-paws. Despite his clumsiness, he handles his bike well as we wind our way back into the City. I mull over what to do with his bike as we ride and finally decide to house it with mine in Brooklyn rather than trying to find a safe place in the East Village. One of the few things to recommend my apartment is that it has an integral garage.
Taco follows me gamely through the increasingly leafy, residential streets until we reach my low, brick apartment building. He doesn’t argue when I beckon him to follow as I wheel my bike into the garage. He locks his bike, takes off his “Prospect” cut and reverentially folds it into a saddlebag, throws the saddlebags over his shoulder, and follows me up into my apartment without comment.
I’ve sent Brenna up ahead and find her in the euphemistically named “multi-purpose” room. It’s really a combination livingroom/dining room/kitchen, but since I’m rarely here, it’s currently used as storage, with unpacked boxes piled on the table, counters, and in every corner. I haven’t painted or put up any pictures because I’m never here, so what’s the point? Bren doesn’t say anything as she surveys the space but follows me into the bedroom. Once we’re both inside, she shuts the door and puts her arms around me.
“I’m taking the risk, Sir.”
“What risk is that, girl?”
“You said I could touch you whenever I wanted if I was willing to take the risk. I’m taking the risk. And Mac? You shouldn’t stay another night here.”
“What’s wrong, girl? You worried about your Sir being lonely?”
“I’m worried about him being suicidal. This place is like the Pit of Despair.”
“Well, it is Brooklyn.”
Bren laughs softly at my joke. “Please, Sir, move your stuff into my apartment while you’re waiting for Logan’s to be ready.”
“You asking me to move in with you, girl?”
“Mostly I’m asking you to move out of here, but I’d be happy to have you stay with me.”
“It seems pointless to move twice.”
“Not to me, Sir.”
I tip her chin up so I can give her a kiss. “I appreciate the concern, girl. I haven’t slept here in a while and shuttling back and forth to the East Village is a pain, so maybe I’ll take you up on that. I don’t have that much to move, anyway. Let me pack some fresh clothes and we’ll go.”
She squeezes me before she releases me, then perches on the edge of the bed while I pack a bag. “Other than acquiring our tag-along, things with the bikers seemed to go well.”
“They did,” I confirm. “Nothing not to like. None of the rules Rolling Blue had that bothered me. They’re smart about having everyone in the club be in the lifestyle. I didn’t have to worry about slipping up or speaking out of turn. I could see many of them becoming friends. What about you, girl? You seemed to get on well with Tiana.”
“Yes, Sir. I liked them all.”
