Junkyard Dog

by Katja Desjarlais

  “You broke my ribs again.” He glanced over at his brother. “You weren’t perving on her?”

  Bo scoffed. “Of course I was. But in the most respectful way I could, given the circumstances.”

  The pair lay in silence for a few minutes.

  “We need to get this guy before the cops do.” Alex sighed. “It’s kind of snowballed out of control, hasn’t it?”

  “We’ve dealt with this shit before,” Bo murmured, tossing his arm over his eyes. “Maybe you’re off your game because this may actually be it.” He peered over at Alex. “Kind of overwhelming, being this close to home, isn’t it?”

  Home.

  He thought back to his slip-up with Charlotte.

  “Yeah. That’s probably it.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex pressed his phone tighter to his ear, flipping his brother off as Charlotte’s overtired, overexcited voice carried through the small trailer.

  “What if one’s a girl?” she exclaimed. “There might be puppies!”

  Bo stood up, pushing his muscled stomach out as far as it could go and ducking when Alex tossed a pillow at him.

  “There are no puppies.” He groaned. “Forget about the damn dogs. Why are you calling me seven hours later than you were supposed to be off?”

  “Oh. That.” Her voice settled slightly, the frenetic pace lessening. “Becky and Jonas found an abandoned sedan hung up near Forty-Nine Palms. Max swears it’s the same one that hit Butch a few months back, but who knows. Unfortunately, he went and opened his big mouth about it and he and I had to review all our reports and sit in with the head honchos to discuss everything we remembered about the guy.”

  He flopped back onto his bed and tossed his arm over his eyes, willing away his own exhaustion from staking out the Pirithous apartment for the past four hours. “Tell me you don’t work today.”

  “I don’t. I’m going to bed until Max drags me to the tavern at ten.”

  The tension that had settled in his shoulders during the long wait for her call released a fraction and he smiled. “I have to admit I like Max’s idea tonight.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She laughed. “You say that now. But when I come in all cranky and demanding, you’ll change your tune.”

  “I kind of like when you get bossy. Get some sleep and I’ll see you at ten. Night, baby.” Dropping his phone beside him, he lifted his arm and glared at Bo. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Bo said flatly, sprawling out on the small sofa. “I’m just wondering how rough the break-up is going to be for you.”

  “Neither of us are in a place for a relationship, so there won’t be a break-up. Just a see-you-around,” he muttered, refusing to think about it. “You driving in with me? Thomas cooks up a mean burger.”

  Bo stood up and walked to the small bathroom, examining his cheekbone and jaw in the mirror. “You’re a fucking dick. You owe me a goddamn burger for this. And stop touching your sides.”

  He rolled out of bed carefully, holding his ribs in place until he was upright. “Next time I tell you to back off my woman, do it.” He snatched up his wallet and keys and froze midstep.

  “A woman,” Bo corrected for him. “And there won’t even be a next time.”

  *

  Charlotte kept a pleasant smile on her face as she and Max approached Bo. “Max, this is Alex’s brother, Bo. Bo, Max.”

  Bo gave a disinterested nod and polished off his drink.

  “This really sucks,” Max grumbled, his eyes moving to Alex while he approached. “Now that there’s two of you, I’m never getting laid around here again, am I?”

  “Bo will pass you his leftovers,” Alex offered, grinning when Bo snatched the beer from his hand and held it up to Max in solidarity. He stepped closer to her before he hesitated and rocked back. “Everyone’s over at the back booths.” She bit her lip as she glanced over at the very memorable table her colleagues were now drinking at. Catching her eye, Alex smirked. “I’ll be by after I run a couple orders out.”

  Max dragged her across the bar, muttering about fishes and ponds and sharks taking over his hunting grounds. He squeezed in beside the Montana mumbler, shrugging when Charlotte raised her brows a fraction. Eying the only seat left, she sank down beside Becky.

  “You’re passing one over to me,” Becky stated without hesitation, looking over Charlotte’s shoulder. “You don’t get both.”

  Glaring at Max, she sat back in her seat. “Gladly.” She watched Alex as he wove through the maze of chairs and people, nodding as requests came in and politely dodging the hands of women when he paused to collect their empty glasses.

  When he finally made it over to them, he looked pointedly at the table before grinning at her. “Coffee, beer, or shots?”

  “Beer and shots!” Max yelled over, tossing his credit card on the table. “Overtime’s buying.”

  Alex noted everyone’s request, leaning forward to whisper in her ear when he got to her. “You look tired. Want me to water your shots down?”

  She nodded, biting her lip when he flicked his tongue against her earlobe before he straightened up to address the rest of the table. “Anything else before I grab the drinks?”

  “You could send your doppelgänger over,” Becky called out, crossing her legs and crowding Charlotte to the edge of the bench. “He looks lonely over there.”

  With a tight smile, Alex turned back to the bar. She watched him as he prepped their drinks, his movements slow and deliberate. He maintained a constant conversation with Bo, nodding toward Charlotte’s table before shaking his head and turning toward the beer fridges. He passed two over to Bo, his expression unreadable as Bo made his way to their table and pulled a chair up tight to her side.

  “You gonna introduce me?” he asked quietly, leaning in uncomfortably close to her.

  She scooted an inch closer to Becky, receiving an unimpressed sigh from the woman as she called out everyone’s name, pausing long enough for each person to give a quick wave before moving on. “And this is Becky.”

  Becky reached behind her to give Bo a limp-wristed handshake. “So are you and Alex twins or brothers?”

  Bo lifted one brow and sneered at her hand before he held both beers up. “Hands are full. Twins.”

  Becky smiled at him, turning sideways and bringing her knee up onto the bench, eliminating most of Charlotte’s seat. “Are you the good twin or the bad one?”

  He leaned forward, his eyes traveling down to her legs. “I’m the one who isn’t drunk enough for that yet.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened and she locked her attention on Max, willing him to take his attention off the Montana mumbler’s cleavage and intervene. Bo sat back in his seat and got comfortable, wedging his leg tight against her. When Becky dropped her knee in a huff and latched her focus back on to Jonas, Bo used his thigh to push Charlotte back into her spot.

  “Drop-shots on the house,” Alex announced from behind her, reaching between them to set a full tray on the table. He placed one shooter in front of her first, its slightly lighter color indistinguishable once it was separated from the other. “Gladiators for the gladiators,” he stated, his eyes hard despite the upturn of his lips.

  The group dove in, prepping their drinks as he walked back to the bar to grab another tray of their orders. Toasts were shouted out as Max attempted unsuccessfully to quiet the group long enough for a countdown.

  Bo tapped her shoulder and lifted his shot to her. “To ticking clocks.” He dropped the small glass into the larger one and tossed it back, downing it in one gulp and shaking his head as he swallowed. “Better drink up while you can.”

  *

  Nineteen.

  Charlotte mentally added the double-rye in Bo’s hand to the total he’d had since she’d arrived at the bar.

  He’d barely spoken in two hours, his blue and green eyes periodically scanning the patrons with disinterest before they’d stare blankly at the strobe lights on the ceiling. Becky had made several drunken attempts to gain
his attention, going so far as to climb over Charlotte in her “rush” to the dance floor and falling into Bo’s lap.

  It had been mildly amusing when he merely lifted his drinks into the air wordlessly until she righted herself in a huff and walked off.

  She leaned into Alex’s hand as he brushed it across her cheek on his way by, arching her neck to watch him sweet-talk a table of tittering older women.

  “Why didn’t you push back?”

  She looked over at Bo. “Excuse me?”

  He hefted his chair forward. “With the knock-off ranger Barbie over there,” he said, pointing his glass toward the dance floor. “Why didn’t you push back? Reclaim your spot?”

  She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “Not worth the fight.” She leaned back and assessed him. “Speaking of fights, what happened to your face?”

  “Your ugly-ass lay got in a cheap shot before I snapped a couple of his ribs.” When her mouth dropped open, Bo smiled at her, his uncanny resemblance to Alex unnerving. “So do you have your break-up date circled on the calendar? Or are you two going to pick something stupid to argue over and make that the explosive end?”

  Craning her neck to catch a glimpse of Alex as he knelt down slower than usual in front of the beer fridges, she pursed her lips. “Not that it’s any of your business, but there’s nothing to break up.”

  “I’d say anything that compromises my brother’s concentration on the job is definitely my business,” he countered, lifting his empty glass in Alex’s direction until Alex saw it from across the room and nodded. “This little relationship experiment is a distraction for him. And distractions are dangerous.”

  She sat back and stared absently at the dance floor, giving Max a tight-lipped smile when he waved over at her. “And that,” she said, rapping her finger on Bo’s empty drink, “isn’t a distraction?”

  Bo chuckled and stretched his arms behind his chair. “No escaping it when Dionysus favors you.” With an impatient glance in Alex’s direction, he stared her down, smirking when she looked away.

  Alex approached the pair, eying her warily. “Double rye, last call,” he said, setting Bo’s drink down. “Everything good?”

  She nodded tersely as Bo swirled the ice in his drink and looked up at his twin. “Two more doubles, two shots of tequila. Don’t forget the salt and lemon.”

  *

  Alex dropped off the last of his tabs and doubled back to Charlotte’s table. The two tequila shots remained untouched as she and Bo sat in a silent standoff, Charlotte refusing to take the lemon from Bo’s teeth and Bo refusing to back down.

  Max waved his credit card in the air, his other hand inching toward Charlotte’s tequila. “If no one wants that…”

  “It’s yours,” Charlotte replied, pushing the salt at Max, a smile on her lips when Bo spat the lemon from his mouth and slammed back his own shot.

  Alex pocketed Max’s card and knelt beside Charlotte. “Dance?”

  Her eyes lit up for a moment before they flicked to Thomas standing at the till. “You’re still working.”

  “I’m going to be here for another two hours clearing tables.” He stood and held out his hand, ignoring Bo’s hardened face and booting his chair when Charlotte tried to pass over him and Bo lifted his knee a fraction.

  He led her onto the dance floor, the other couples awkwardly breaking apart as the song switched to a slower song he had seen on the upcoming playlist. Charlotte’s arms wrapped around his neck loosely, her expressions shifting every few seconds.

  Over.

  He looked down. “There’s enough room for a bible between us.”

  Charlotte smiled, holding position for a few beats before she stepped in closer to him and tightened her hold on his neck. “Do you want to come by after work for a bit?”

  A bit?

  He looked over Charlotte’s head at Bo. “Should I?”

  She went quiet, her fingers twirling his hair while she avoided answering him or meeting his eyes. He pulled her flush to him, rested his chin on her head, and stared his twin down until Bo looked down at his drinks and pounded them back.

  *

  The last customer opened the tavern door, stepping aside to allow the sprite-like strawberry blonde to skip in, her hulking onyx-eyed protector stalking behind her. As Seph beelined it toward the end of the bar where Bo was slumped over, Hades stood stoically beside Alex, watching his wife.

  “Boreus!”

  Bo turned his head toward the familiar voice, grinning when Seph cupped his chin in her tiny hands and fussed over his bruises. “It was Alex,” Bo ratted, wincing for show as Persephone ran her thumbs over the darkest one.

  Lips pursed, she turned to him, her hands flying to her hips. “You damaged him!”

  “He’ll live,” he muttered, snatching the last of the dirty rags from the counter and storming to the kitchen, Hades hot on his heels.

  His master scanned the back room. “You two haven’t fought since you were pups.”

  “We fight plenty,” he called out, his spine prickling with Hades’s proximity. “And we’ve got a lead. Ryan’s been called in.” He kept his eyes averted, pushing back through the swinging doors. “Hear that Seph? We’ll be home soon.”

  Bo was on his feet, shirtless and swaying slightly as his mistress examined the various scratches and markings peppering his torso. She glanced up at Alex. “I should hope so. My pretty boys are getting all marred up here. Hades. Come take a look at this.”

  Obliging, Hades strode past him and bent down to scan Bo’s healing injuries. “None of these are permanent,” he stated, squeezing Seph’s hand in reassurance before rising to face Alex. “If you have a lead, explain to me why you aren’t tracking it right now.”

  He snorted, waving his hand toward his drunken twin, who was struggling to pull his shirt back over his head. “Someone has to babysit that.”

  Seph’s blue eyes narrowed as she assisted Bo, running her hands over the tattoo that matched that of his brothers. “Aw, honey. You know it upsets me when you two fight.”

  Hades crossed his arms and regarded him for a moment before calling over to Bo. “Anything to report on this one’s extracurricular activities?”

  His twin flopped back down onto a bar stool and shrugged, yanking his phone out of his pocket. “Got a bunch of pics here.” His unsteady hand held the cell out to Hades and he smirked at Seph. “Don’t flip too far back. There’s a few on there that aren’t safe for work.”

  He watched as Hades swiped through the photos, mentally preparing himself for a grilling about Charlotte until the images flashed across the screen.

  Aside from the shots from his drunken night at that Allison woman’s apartment, Bo had several pictures of Alex at work.

  Smiling down at a pretty blonde as she reached up to trace the outer ridges of his tattoo.

  Leaning against the counter as another woman backed up tight against him.

  Resting his hands on the hips of a brunette, her lips tilted up toward his.

  What was missing from each picture was the context.

  Alex, stepping away when the unwanted fingers grazed his skin.

  The beer bottle that tipped off his tray moments after the customer bumped into him, her apologies profuse as she and her boyfriend pushed cash toward him to cover the accident.

  His focused beeline through the crowd as Charlotte made her way out of the bar without a goodbye.

  Hades passed the cell back to Bo and gave Alex a strange look. “We’ll be seeing you soon, boys.”

  Waiting until the door slammed shut, he pulled out his phone and texted Charlotte. “Won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  He finished a final wipe of the counter and rounded the bar, helping Bo to his feet and guiding him out of the lounge. “Nice pics.”

  Bo smirked, flopping into the passenger seat and sliding his phone across the dash. “I was gonna show those to your little whatever-you-call-her Charlotte chick. But I figured I’d cover your ass with the boss
-man instead.” He closed his eyes as Alex started the SUV. “I’m not too sure he or Seph would be too pleased knowing they were losing you to a human woman.”

  Easing onto the road, he gave his brother a quick smile. “No one’s losing anyone.”

  Except me.

  “Whatever,” Bo grumbled, slinking into his seat in a futile attempt to get comfortable and reaching down to adjust the seat as he sprawled out. “Straight up. You aren’t, like, in love with this chick, right?”

  “Make yourself useful and pass out or something.” He snorted, glancing at his silent phone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alex hung up the phone and turned to Bo, his arms crossed. “Ryan’ll be here Sunday. He’s driving down, leaving on Friday night.” He tossed an outdated phonebook at his brother and began the hunt for his keys. “I might be back before you sober up enough to find a hotel for the two of you.”

  He flew through the back streets, slamming on his brakes when he almost passed the turnoff to Charlotte’s apartment block.

  He didn’t want to be here.

  Two days and nights of phone tag.

  Shift work that didn’t align.

  Two early-morning stakeouts of the Pirithous.

  He parked in a vacant corner of the lot and snatched his phone off the dash.

  “We need to talk.” Charlotte’s last text, made at six that morning, sat at the top of his messages.

  He’d never needed to talk. Never stuck around long enough to have to talk.

  He buzzed Charlotte’s apartment and waited until the obnoxious system let him in the building, climbing the stairs slowly, his ribs still aching and his legs heavy.

  He didn’t want to talk.

  She stood in her open doorway, her damp hair leaving wet streaks on the gray police training shirt she had on.

  And his favorite jeans. Her ass looked great in those jeans.