Page 28 of Lovesick Titan (Lovesick #2)

Mal shouldn’t be out in the open. Not with an IA investigation going on that could likely lead the officers looking into Danny—and looking into Mal’s comms—right to his neighborhood, but he didn’t care.

He’d taken the precaution to wear his cap and glasses, to carry himself with that slightly altered gait that made people disregard him.

He just needed to be out. Anywhere but stuck in his apartment.

Today was a good day to check on his investments to be certain everyone in the neighborhood had what they needed and weren’t being given any trouble. Mal also wanted to be sure Dunkirk hadn’t gotten out of holding too quickly and was lurking about his streets again.

Unlikely though—having Zeus gift-wrap a wanted criminal and set him on OCPD’s doorstep carried a little more weight than usual, and Daddy Dunkirk didn’t seem as eager to help his son out this time around. Good riddance.

Today, Mal had started his rounds backwards from his apartment.

He was on his way to Rashid’s shop next, then the bakery, a handful of others along the way to Mrs. Pak’s, then finally the electronics store before ending at Haven.

He needed to warn Priestly about the comms. He’d been too preoccupied with his revenge plan against Danny to give the young genius a head’s up.

IA wouldn’t put priority on a piece of evidence for an internal case, not when it was connected to a heist that already had a suspect.

Mal had another couple days, but he needed to be ready.

In keeping with his low-key presence around the neighborhood, he snuck in through the back of Rashid’s shop.

He’d have to be cautious, call out before he was directly in view, in case Rashid was feeling trigger happy again.

The jingle of the bell above the door announced a customer, so Mal held back to wait.

“Ah, you! Always welcome here. How can I help?” Rashid greeted whoever had entered much more genially than Mal was used to.

“Hi!” a bright, familiar voice answered, stopping Mal in his tracks. “I don’t mean to be any trouble, I just wanted to, umm…well…to give you a head’s up about some police that might come through in the next few days. They might ask about me, and I don’t want to get Mr. Cho into any trouble.”

Mal’s throat went dry. Was Danny searching for angles? No. Mal didn’t believe that anymore. But then what?

“No trouble,” Rashid said. “I know nothing. Never seen you before. And Mr. Cho? Please. Nothing important ever happens here. Now, you interested in some menthols?”

Danny chuckled lightly, and it was so endearingly sweet, so like Mal was used to hearing from when Danny was just his adorable, fumbling self, the person Mal had first fallen in lo…

He shook his head, struggling not to clear his throat and give himself away.

“Thanks. Rashid, right? Thank you. You probably have all of this down by now and I’m just making a fool of myself.”

No feat there.

“But all the same, if anyone comes looking…well, just be yourself.”

“Of course,” Rashid said warmly. “You want anything from store, you help yourself. Or take something for Mr. Cho. Here…” Shuffling signaled that Rashid was moving, possibly to come into the back, which made Mal tense at being caught, but Danny called after him.

“No! Please. Really. He won’t want anything. Especially not from me. If anyone asks, you never saw me. You never saw him. It’ll all blow over in a week or two. And hey, if you can do me just one other favor?”

“ Anything . Anything.”

“Don’t tell him I was here either.”

Mal stood in a daze for several moments, not hearing whatever final exchange occurred before Danny left the shop. Danny was the one at risk, yet here he was, putting himself on the line again—for Mal. What the hell was he thinking ?

Mal hurried out of the back of the shop to head Danny off. Tailing someone in his own neighborhood was child’s play, so long as Danny didn’t lightning jump. But Danny seemed ready for a leisurely stroll.

He wore all black with a cap on his head like Mal. When Danny headed for the bakery, Mal ducked into the back of the store, moving quietly, knowing each place of business on his turf well enough to sidestep boxes and equipment without a single unwanted noise.

Until Janey came around a corner and barreled right into him.

“Oh my goodness! Mr. Cho!” she exclaimed, nearly dropping the dirty pan she’d been bringing back to the sink.

Mal reached out to keep the pan from unbalancing and brought a finger to his lips. The bell chimed over the door, a more musical sound than Rashid’s.

“Hello?” Danny called.

Janey’s eyes widened, but Mal shook his head. He wasn’t here. She hadn’t seen him. Janey pursed her lips with a confused frown but soon passed the pan to Mal and dusted her hands off on her apron.

“Coming!”

Depositing the pan in the sink behind him, Mal inched closer to the front after Janey. Danny engaged her in a similar exchange to the one Mal had already overheard, though unlike Rashid, Janey managed to force a donut on Danny—on the house.

“Is everything okay, Danny?” she asked.

“Like I said, it’s just the police—”

“I mean between you and Mr. Cho.”

“Oh…uhh…”

“Did he do something he shouldn’t have? That museum last night, they say it was him. The security guard got a good look. But I heard Zeus recovered half the stolen goods. Did something happen?”

Damn Janey and her sincere curiosity. Mal tried to peek around the doorway into the front. He could just barely make out the brim of Danny’s hat.

“It’s not that,” Danny said. “ I did something, and I’m trying to make it right. Please, don’t tell him I was here.”

“Okay. But I don’t understand. Wouldn’t you want him to know you’re trying to protect him? ”

“No. Because then it becomes about me instead of him. Thank you, Janey,” Danny said and took his leave.

A new feeling of nerves and guilt and hope stirred inside of Mal. He didn’t have any answers about what he wanted or what to do next, but he knew he couldn’t let Danny out of his sight.

Without waiting for Janey to find him in the back again, Mal fled outside, following a parallel path to Danny along alleyways and side streets to see where he’d go next.

They’d been in sync even before Mal caught Danny at Rashid’s.

Danny was on a backwards path from Mal’s apartment too.

He’d probably figured it was safest to start there to avoid running into Mal, and because Mal had taken back streets the whole way, Danny hadn’t seen him.

Now Mal continued that trend, entering the back of every business Danny stopped at. The same story played out each time between Danny and the people of the neighborhood.

Only Mrs. Pak actually asked, “You cop?” with a scrutinizing eyebrow.

“Detective.”

“And Mickey know?”

“He does. We were just a really good, really bad idea for a while.” Danny turned to walk away, but Mrs. Pak stopped him. They were only a shelf away from Mal this time, since he’d had to slip inside the store itself to overhear them tucked back by the frozen food section.

“Anything more I can do, you say so. Mickey good boy. You good boy too.” She patted his cheek. Only then did Mal realize that Danny’s burns were gone, leaving behind a faint redness that most people wouldn’t notice.

“What you do normally is more than enough, but if you think throwing me under the bus might protect him better…do it. I just want to keep him safe.”

Mrs. Pak tried to hold Danny longer, to talk to him more, but Danny politely declined.

He didn’t know the rest of the neighborhood, other than Haven, so Mal wondered if he’d stop here, head home, jump away and be gone.

He didn’t. As Mal snuck out of the corner store to continue tailing Danny, he watched him turn toward Andrews Electronics.

Shit .

Risking Danny spotting him, Mal hurried to get there first. He fumbled with the key when he reached the back door and was not at all stealthy as he entered. If Danny saw Priestly… More complications were not what they needed.

Mal rushed through the back room, nearly plowing into Arty who came toward him with a baseball bat raised, only to sag in relief when he saw that the person breaking into his shop in the middle of the day was Mal.

“Geez! Where’s the—”

“Hart!” Mal called, knowing he had moments before Danny entered.

“What?” Priestly’s disembodied voice yelled back in irritation.

“Get back here!”

The sound of the bell chimed just as Priestly’s head peeked around the side of the curtain. “What is your problem—”

“Excuse me?” Danny called from the front.

Mal pleaded intently with his eyes for Priestly to get with the program but Danny’s voice was enough. They’d crossed paths before as Hephaestus and Detective Grant. Priestly stiffened, straightened, caught between the front of the shop and the back, but at least he wasn’t facing Danny.

“Uhh…” he made a strangled effort to affect his voice, “one moment please!” and dove into the back, swiping the curtain shut behind him. He gestured madly at Arty to get out there instead.

Arty glanced between Mal and Priestly as he carefully set aside the bat he’d grabbed and opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but Priestly shook his head and Mal managed a very low, whispered, “ Please .” Arty sighed.

“Hi there!” he said as he entered the front of the shop with a flourish.

“Sorry about that. My engineer had an emergency. Dropping off or picking up? Or looking for something to buy?” At least Arty was a picture of calm, not even a mild hitch to his tone to betray what was going on behind the curtain—namely Priestly continuing to gesture emphatically while Mal brushed him off with a wave and moved to be within better hearing distance.

“I’m not here to shop, actually,” Danny said. “Are you the owner? ”

“Technically my father is, but he doesn’t come in much anymore. How can I help you?”

“Oh. Well…you know, maybe this was a bad idea. I’ll just—”