Page 157 of Soul So Dark

“You know,” he muses, “most people come to me asking how to grow weed or that trendy frond shit, but I knew you were different, Alex. You appreciate the finer things—the wild things.”

He’s not wrong. I do like the wild things; the unassuming things that others gloss over, but when you look closer, you realize how gnarly and beautiful they are. Plus, I knew if I called Thatch, he’d really nerd out over this.

“But they’ll grow here, right?” I ask apprehensively.

“Hell yeah, man. If you take care of anything properly and give it what it needs, it’ll grow no matter what,” Thatch replies, casting a sideways glance at my sofa.

“But,” the blonde woman chimes in gently, “make sure you use some coarse sand or perlite in your soil. It’ll prevent root rot,” she grins with excitement, gazing lovingly at the container in Thatch’s arm.

Thatch casts me a coy smile. “Kendra and I are both members of the Capital City Garden Club.”

I arch my brow, admittedly impressed.

“So, where do I put them?” I ask, gazing around my apartment.

Kendra rises from the sofa and scurries around to the wall of windows, the click of her heels echoing through the room.

“Based on the direction of your windows, I noticed you get the most sunlight here. They need full sunlight whenever possible, but if you supplement with a grow light, they should be fine.Oh!” she exclaims suddenly, whipping her long barrel curls over her shoulder, “And make sure you switch to a bigger container as they grow, so they don’t get root-bound.”

“Thanks,” I reply in a mild state of awe. “I’ll remember that.”

She gives a polite nod and returns to the sofa to take her seat next to the other two. When I turn back to Thatch, he’s beaming with pride. But after a few moments, he snaps out of his stupor and carries the container to the spot Kendra pointed out.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the cash I have for him. “Seriously, I appreciate you doing this for me and bringing it all the way here.”

Pittsburgh’s not far, but considering that Thatch took the time and effort to find the damn things and personally transport them here—alive—it’s kind of a big deal.

“Anything for you, RBF,” he grins. “I’m tempted to stick around just to see how this plays out.”

I didn’t tell him my entire plan, but clearly it was enough to pique his curiosity.

“Mm-hmm,” I say through hooded eyes. “I’ll cover for you when you’re hung over and I’ll drag your bloody ass across the desert, but you can blur your own lines and leave mine the hell alone.”

“Selfish prick,” he grins and then gives a sharp nod to the front door.

Kendra, Harper, and India all rise in unison and follow Thatch and me to the entryway.

“What is it you do again?” I squint at him. “I don’t think you said.”

“I didn’t,” Thatch winks, leading his pets out the door, “but if you want in, let me know. I’ll hook you up.”

???

An eerie sensation washes over me as soon as the combination of leather upholstery and night air hits my nostrils. I feel like I’m back in high school, except now I’m the only one sitting in this truck.

Aiden wanted to come with me tonight, but he’d stick out like a sore thumb and there’s not much room for error. I heard from Mason that Colson’s now in the lower 48, but not much more. Whatever’s going on with him, he needs to get his shit together because it’s becoming apparent that I need him here. He’s had enough time to wander the wilderness.

But I’m accustomed to waiting. At this point, it’s second only to breathing; waiting for hours, maybe days, for the inevitable burst of action. I can wait for Colson, just like I’ve been waiting in this truck for going on 90 minutes. Granted, it hasn’t been a bad view.

Every so often, Dallas walks out onto the patio and makes her rounds from table to table. I would be sitting at one of them, but I’m sure she’d recognize me now that I’m clean shaven. Instead, I watch from the shadows, partially covered in darkness by the brick wall behind me. Motionless, my eyes are the only thing that move as I track her across the concrete, taking in every inch of her body.

And that absolute dump truck of an ass…

No wonder she identifies with Lara Croft so much.

I glance down at my phone, the brightness turned down, and scroll through her social media. I recognize many of the names as the same friends she had in high school. Maybe she’s like me in that way; when she finds her people, she sticks with them.

Moving further down her page, I notice she shares a lot of streaming posts, especially fromGhostW@ke,which is hilarious because I remember her saying how much she hatedCall of Duty.Now, her page is peppered with a dude in a Ghost mask andCODstreams amid her usual RPGs likeZero ReckoningandDark Souls.