Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(58)

“That blows, Jackson. I’m sorry, man.”

He’s genuinely sorry. I am too, but that’s something I’ll have to deal with later. I can’t let myself get swept up in any more emotions tonight. I’ve had about all I can deal with for one evening. Thank you very much.

“Let’s get you outta here.”

“No offense, dude, but I think I’m staying here for a couple nights.”

“Excuse me? We don’t know if these guys are—”

“No one’s gonna come down here. And even if they do, I know how to get low and stay there.”

There’s nothing but dark alleys and dark windows surrounding us. It’s like no one lives here, despite the number of people crowded around that trash can fire. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Get in the car, kid.”

“No.”

He’s kidding me with this shit, right?

“Maybe you didn’t f*cking hear me. Get in the goddamn car.”

“No.” Defiant little…

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

“I watched that guy kill a girl tonight, that’s what. I’m safer here than at your place.”

Damn. He’s got a point.

“Besides, I was talking to some of those guys over there?” The kid nods back toward the group of homeless I found him with.

“One of them says he knew Donnie. Heard some things. He wouldn't elaborate, but I’m gonna see if he gets drunk enough to share more details.”

“That’s your plan. Get him drunk?”

“Yeah.”

The barrenness of the place tells my gut that maybe Jimmy’s right. The cops probably won’t patrol around here—not tonight anyway. He should be okay, and with any luck, he’ll get something outta his lead. Besides, I can’t force him to come with me.

Correction: I could, but I won’t. He’d only take off again.

“Okay, listen. If I don’t hear from you by tomorrow night, I’ll be back looking for you. If you have to leave, give me something I can find you with. Got it?”

He nods. “Got it.”

“Don’t go following any rabbit trails by yourself. This guy gives you something concrete, find me.”

I slip him my card. The one that has all my numbers on it. I pat him on the shoulder and hope to f*cking God I’m making the right decision leaving him.

“Call me.” And there it is ladies and gentlemen. I am my mother.

Lord help us.

“I will.” He tips the card at me then slides it into his jeans pocket. I make my way back over to the Chevelle where Green is waiting patiently. And a little smugly, if I do say so myself.

“So, how’d he do it?” I ask her when I’m close enough.

“Ken?”

I give her a look because, yes, Ken. Who the f*ck else does she think I’m talking about.

“He’s pretty much a genius,” she explains, with pride in her voice. “He can hack into just about any city-run circuit you can think of. All he had to do was type in some code to look for your boy’s description, narrow it down to the sections of city that made sense, take a closer look and,” she waves a hand toward the kid, “voila.”

“I owe that guy a drink. Maybe ten.”

“It sounds complicated, but believe me, for Ken, it’s simple. He’s done it a million times. In fact, last week, I saw him hack into the Redemption traffic control just so he could get home faster. And a box of Einstein Bagels would probably do the trick.”

She snorts, then thinks better of what she just said. “You didn’t hear that.”

I hold my hands up. “The guy doesn’t like bagels; got it.”

“Stiles.”

“Kidding. Jesus. Zipping lips on the super-secret hacker identity.” My demeanor takes a turn for the serious, momentarily, as I join her on her side of the car. “You really came through for me, Green.”

It surprises me, yes. But more than that. It’s been a long damn time since someone did something for me without expecting me to owe them something in return.

Much, anyway.

“Do my sleuthing skills make you hot?” She makes like she just closed opening night on Broadway.

“That and a few other things.” I give her my own version of the side-eye.

“Better watch it, Stiles. You almost sound like you give a shit about something.” She tries to joke some more, but I don’t break my steely demeanor. It seems like it makes her nervous. Like I make her nervous, staring at her like this. Not saying anything.

“Language, Green.” I’m joking, of course. I f*cking love hearing curse words come out of that mouth.

And the eyes. If only those eyes could speak.

“You know…” She swallows. Edgy. “Sometimes, when people are in extreme circumstances together, they tend to become attracted to the danger.” She takes a deep breath before she continues. “They project that attraction onto the other person and begin to think that maybe…” She clears her throat. “Their attraction, misguided as it may be, is actual feelings.” She breathes again. “For that person.”

She’s lost her damn mind, I admit. But also, pretty f*cking awesome.