Page 33 of Lovesick Gods (Lovesick #1)

Mal pulled out his phone to see who had messaged him as he waited for Mrs. Pak to return from the back of the general store.

He’d tried to tell her that he was fine, he didn’t need anything, never needed anything unless he was picking up groceries, which he’d already done that week, but convincing the woman of such things was like talking to a brick wall.

She’d just speak right over him, going a million miles a minute.

The text was from Danny. Busy?

Errands.

Illegal errands?

Mal smirked as he texted back, Not technically.

Want company?

Mal’s smile dropped. It was the middle of the day. They weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow. Considering his answer for several seconds, he reminded himself where he was and what he was up to. He had more stops to go before he could head home.

Not a good time.

Where are you? I can meet you.

Persistent. Something must have happened. Maybe the Ludgate case.

Corner store in my neighborhood , he replied, not thinking for a moment that Danny could find him on that information. I’ll message you when I’m done and we can —Mal was still typing when he caught sight of a faint spark of light and looked up to see Danny walking through the door.

How…?

“Hey,” Danny said, looking windblown and antsy in a blazer and navy trench coat that Mal would have adored in any other situation. Mal was dressed for his own routine day at work , with his glasses on and hair tied back in a messy bun.

Pocketing his phone, he kept his face neutral. “How did you find me?”

“You said corner store, so I just…checked all the corners,” Danny shrugged.

“ All— ”

“Can’t do that too often though, or I tend to pass out,” he added with a light laugh. It was stilted, forced. He had his hands jammed into his pockets and couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. Danny was always a little restless—he had lightning in his veins—but this was different.

He wanted distraction. Escape. Normally, Mal was only too happy to provide, but he was on the job at the moment. It didn’t matter that nothing about this part of his work was strictly illegal.

“Danny, I need you to pay close attention,” Mal spoke slowly, steeling his expression to show that he was not amused—even if he was a little. “I did not invite you along. I said now isn’t a good time and it isn’t. You can’t be here—”

“For you, Mickey. Take, take.” Mrs. Pak reappeared and pushed a large, warm bag of aromatic food into his arms that was far more than he could ever eat alone.

Turning away from Danny’s hurt expression to address the woman, Mal said, “Mrs. Pak, I tried to explain—”

“Need more for friend?” She gestured at Danny.

Mal sighed because Danny’s smile was starting to peek through again. “No.” He switched to Korean and stated plainly, “You never need to give me anything.”

“Nonsense,” she answered just as rapid-fire in her native tongue, then went on a little too fast for Mal to follow, though he definitely caught something about ‘protection’ and ‘good boy’ and ‘too skinny’ with some endearment attached to his name.

He was pretty sure the skinny comment was for Danny, though he never knew with Mrs. Pak.

“You speak Korean?” Danny said, rather than address the fact that he shouldn’t be there at all.

Mal shot him a scowl. “Very little. And very poorly.”

“He too modest,” Mrs. Pak said, because of course she’d engage Danny in conversation. “Better every day. You need more, Mickey, you say so.” Patting Mal’s arm three times, she was soon gone as the afternoon rush started to come in, relieving him of her doting attention.

“I thought ‘Mickey’ was reserved for Lucy,” Danny said with a self-assured smirk.

Mal refused to smile back at him. “It is, she… Lucy was with me when we first… I didn’t want to be rude,” he finally blurted, which only served to make Danny more pleased with himself.

“You didn’t want to be rude. To the little Korean lady who’s giving you kickbacks.”

Mal did not have to take this. He’d gotten what he needed from Mrs. Pak and much more, as always, so he turned on his heel and headed for the exit. “It’s not a kickback. It’s leftovers. That ‘little Korean lady’ makes the best bulgogi you’ll ever taste.”

“Does that mean I get some?” Danny eyed the bag with enthusiasm once they were out on the street.

“Unlikely, considering you’re about to scram .”

“Oh, come on, what’s the big deal? Where are you going next?”

Turning to Danny completely exasperated, Mal pulled him out of the way of a pedestrian about to pass by on the sidewalk, half to keep Danny from being a roadblock and half to bring the kid closer. “None of your business,” he answered sharply.

Mal thought that would be the end of it, but Danny just stared at him, and when his smile dropped, his eyes looked— damn it. Pleading.

“It’s nothing exciting, Sparky, or that requires company. I’m just making some weekly...check-ins.”

As amusement lit up his face again, Danny’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god, you are a mob boss.”

Jerking Danny by the sleeve of his trench coat, even though no other passersby were close enough to have overheard, Mal snapped, “Please, Detective . Be louder.”

“Wait,” Danny glanced around them, “how much of this neighborhood is yours? Here…down to Haven…your apartment building…” He spun in a slow circle as he listed everything off and painted a mental picture in his mind of the area. His eyes were wide when he turned back to Mal.

It wasn’t that big of a radius. “Danny…”

Stuffing his hands into his pockets again, Danny regarded Mal like he had everything figured out. “So what do you charge these people if that’s the tip,” he nodded at the bulgogi.

Mal debated for all of ten seconds whether or not he should paint a harsher picture to keep Danny in line or tell him the truth.

The heist was a week from Monday. Mal couldn’t afford to alienate his nemesis now, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

But in the long run, everything hinged on Danny believing Mal would stick to their deal, which he had every intention of honoring—as long as it continued to suit his aims.

Even if Danny was being a little shit.

“They give me things because they choose to,” Mal said, indicating the general store, then looking around at the other obvious shops and places of business in the neighborhood.

“If you want to call me a mob boss, fine. I do offer protection, but I never ask for anything in return. Things…happened when I first moved in. It wasn’t overnight.

Some of them have kept the police off my back.

They think they owe me. They don’t. But if it keeps a positive relationship going, I won’t prevent it from continuing. ”

Scanning down Mal’s body from head to toe, it was like Danny expected nothing less than for all of that to have been a lie. “They don’t owe you,” he repeated, no censor to his skepticism.

Mal shaped his face into as honest of an expression as he could—or at least as honest as he ever got. “I don’t work that way. Not unless I have to.”

“If someone challenges you, you mean.”

“If they’re someone like the Dunkirks or Mendozas, yes.”

“Or me?” Danny’s face went neutral too, and Mal wasn’t quite sure he could read it.

Frowning, he leaned into Danny’s space. “No one ever owes me like that .”

Danny’s stoicism fell with a wave of embarrassment as his hands came out of his pockets and he reached for the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean for…”

The sex. No, Danny wouldn’t think of what they were doing as an exchange of services. But truth was, sleeping together meant they could use their new arrangement as a weapon against each other.

Naturally, Danny had never considered using Mal like that.

Mal was just too used to being used for something .

But then Danny did want to use him, didn’t he?

Use him to forget, to lose himself, to leave his normal life behind for a while.

Wasn’t that the same? Mal wasn’t so sure, since he liked losing himself in Danny too.

“Think nothing of it,” Mal dismissed the tension that had crept into their conversation. “Look. I have more of these to do. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Danny’s eyes darted to the side—definitely something with work, something with the case, something Danny was running from.

“Took the afternoon off,” he lied all too easily.

“I have time before patrol tonight, figured we’d get in that rain check early.

What’s the big deal if I come with you? You know, seeing as how you’re not doing anything illegal .

” He flicked his eyes back to Mal and smiled ever so sweetly.

If they were just using each other, was it really so bad?

It could be, oh Mal knew it could be, with how many open wounds they’d made known to each other, but he couldn’t bring himself to prompt that sad puppy look from Danny again.

At least he’d already made his stop at the electronics store.

Priestly would have complicated things when Danny recognized the face of Hephaestus.

“Fine,” Mal said, pushing the bag of food into Danny’s arms, which he scrambled to take hold of. “Then you’re going to be useful. No asking questions. No interfering. No matter what you see or hear. Anyone asks you a question, you work for me.”

“Sure thing, boss .” Danny gave a little salute. “Do I need an alias?”

Mal wavered between cringing and breaking into a smile. “Just…be Danny.”

Danny—who apparently enjoyed make-believe. And dress up, if the Zeus suit was any indication.

“Come on,” he said to Danny, turning to head down the street. “And try to keep up.”

?

Danny almost couldn’t believe he’d convinced Cho to let him stay. And while he was keeping tabs on his ‘territory’. Little had Danny known how powerful Cho was. This was good intel. And kind of fun.