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“What are you doing here?” Dion Berrien demands, spying me straining on tiptoe.
“I’m looking for Cody.”
“Why?”
“Because he was at an active-shooting situation, moron. I left New York City. I don’t need this kind of stress here. You’d think in the world’s smallest town with the biggest police presence, you’d be able to keep shit in line.”
Dion snorts. “The world still revolves around you, huh, Tee?”
“Says someone who thinks the Milky Way pivots on his next breath. Don’t give me any sass, Dion, just because I broke up with you to go to college and your idea of a glow-up is black pants with a green stripe.”
He sniffs, but it’s Martin Poitras who cares to share, “Cody’s still at the bar.”
“I heard two people were shot; one of them was killed. That’s not… him. Right?”
“I don’t know why we bother having secure channels,” Dion grouses. “Your intel is right. And Codyissafe. Maybe you could give us a witness statement while you’re at it.”
I smirk. “Nah. I’m not that deep into the loop. Someone told someone who told someone who told Nonna. Plus, I’m about to go back to the ranch, so the last thing I want is them worrying.”
Marty grimaces. “It was fucking scary, I can tell you that. Cody was the only one who didn’t shit his pants.”
Dion sniffs. “I was fine!”
“You were busy puking next to me,” he argues.
“Always knew you were a cock, Dion. All mouth and no action. There you go, proving it to me over and over.”
“A cock?” Dion asks, brow furrowed.
“Yep, because pussies take a pounding and cocks can’t see someone get their head shot off without puking.”
“Don’t forget, I puked too,” Marty confesses sheepishly.
“You’re not professing to be a hard man. At least, you weren’t a douche when we were in school together.” I squint at him. “Has that changed?”
“I’d like to think not. Anyway, how many dead people have you seen?”
I study my nails. “A few.”
“What?!”
“I lived in a terrible area of New York,” I reason with a shrug. “Junkies were shooting up left, right, and center, and I had to walk over some of them to get to my doorway.”
“Nice to see that you gave up something real between us to move to that hellhole.”
I narrow my eyes at Dion. “If you want to take this outside, I’m more than willing.”
“Woah, children!” Marty barks when Dion scrapes up his sleeves over his forearms and shoots me a ‘gimme’ motion.
Once upon a time, I’d slobbered over those forearms. Had thought they were sexy as fuck. Now,nah. They’ve got nothing on Cody’s.
“I can so take you, Dion.”
“Had police training, have you?”
“Nope, but we did self-defense classes so I can totally hand you your ass?—”
“Who’s handing my deputy his ass?”