Page 117 of Hot Stuff
“Gannon gave it to me before we left New York last time we were there.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot this was his house. Does he know what state it’s in?”
“The outside looks a little shabby, but I promise, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Walker lets me and Blake up the stairs to the door first.
“We’ll see.”
When our knock goes unanswered, Walker uses the key to open the door.
Stepping inside, I’m surprised by how clean the place is, and light. The back part of the house has lots of windows and you can see the woods behind the house from the foyer.
Moving deeper into the house I’m beginning to think no one is home when a prone figure on the floor on the other side of the couch grabs my attention.
Thinking the worst, I race around only to come up short when I see the bottle on the floor.
“That doesn’t bode well,” I mutter. Picking up the bottle I see it’s three quarters empty and set it on the coffee table.
I look to Walker and Blake but neither says a word. They’re both looking at the man at my feet.
Moving my gaze back down, I stare at our supposed hot shot sprawled on the floor. I want to turn around and walk right out of here but I have to defer to my coaches.
“Are we sure?”
“Yes.” Walker doesn’t hesitate. “Positive.”
“I’ll second that.”
I glance back at Blake. She’s been suspiciously quiet since we pulled up in front of the ramshackle house Branton Lattimer calls home. “Really? It’s going to be you fixing this mess.”
“Yep.” Blake pops the p.
“Okay.” Looking around, I can’t see what I’m looking for. “Give me a minute.”
I leave them there, both studying the man we’ve come to talk to.
The one who I’m sure is currently in an alcoholic coma. We’re about to find out if it’s a deadly one.
Finding the utility room, I open all the cupboards before I find what I’m after.
A bucket.
Bucket in hand, I head to the kitchen and hope I find the second ingredient to my wake the drunk ass up remedy.
Yanking the fridge door open I find a surprisingly clean space with fresh food. “Hmm…someone is looking after the guy.”
“What are you doing?”
I glance up. I didn’t hear Walker come in. “Looking for cold water.”
“You’re thirsty?” He shakes his head.
“No.” Going back to the fridge I search the bottles in the door before moving onto the shelves. Dammit. Looks like it will be tap water. I was hoping for something colder but it will do.
When I make it back to the living room and the man on the floor, Walker and Blake are huddled together on the far side of the room whispering.
Why is anyone’s guess and something I’m not concerned about. It isn’t like the man can hear anything right now. He’s still out cold.
Not for long.
