Hard Candy by Amaleka McCall

Author:Amaleka McCall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2011-03-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Avon paced inside his undercover apartment with sweat dripping down his back. He jumped at every little noise. Every car sound he heard outside caused him to rush over to his window and peek through the slats of his blinds.

He looked at his watch and sucked in a deep breath of air. The vibration of his undercover phone against the wood on his nightstand shattered his nerves. He rushed over and snatched up the device. “Where the fuck are you?” he screamed into the phone.

“Don’tchu fuckin’ dare move until I get there!” he ordered.

Avon skipped down the building’s steps two at a time. Once outside, he looked up and down the deserted block. There was no one in sight. The doctors and lawyers residing in the area must’ve all been inside their condos and expensive townhomes getting ready for another day of being responsible, upstanding, tax-paying citizens. In Avon’s book, his neighbors were all boringass prudes who sat around having quiet cocktail parties where, the conversation was so low-key, one could fall asleep mid-sentence.

Either way, the serenity of the neighborhood was one of the reasons the DEA undercover research team had chosen the Park Slope block for Avon’s new residence. Although Avon surreptitiously maintained another apartment in Brevoort Houses, where his alter ego, Tuck, resided, as far as Junior and the crew were concerned.

Avon rushed up the street, looking over his shoulder several times. Finally, at the corner, he made a left. He walked at a feverish pace until he made it to a small hole-in-the-wall, pub-style greasy spoon. After checking his surroundings, he dipped inside. The smell of Greek food filled his nostrils. The dirty little place served the best gyros in town, despite the fact that the overweight cook/waiter used the same towel to wipe the sweat from his head and wipe the countertops. Avon would often joke that this gave the food a little extra boost of flavor.

The owner of the restaurant was used to Avon holding his regular meetings there. Avon nodded to the greasy-haired man behind the counter and continued all the way to the back of the place. He squeezed into the cramped booth and exhaled. He sat opposite of Brad Brubaker. Avon’s eyes hooded over and his shoulders tensed.

“You all right?” Brubaker smirked, his blue eyes rimmed and icy today.

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m all right! Where were you when I called you?” Avon growled in a harsh whisper, his fists clenched tightly next to his thigh as he leaned into the table.

“You know how it is. I had to fly out to D.C. and deal with those motherfuckers after Corey Jackson went missing.” Brubaker was unnervingly calm, almost like he was mocking Avon. “You can thank me later for once again saving your ass and your fuckin’ case.”

“Fuck you! I don’t need you to save my ass from those monkey suit–wearing motherfuckers. I need you to protect me on these fuckin’ streets! You’re my fuckin’ case agent. Act like it!” Avon scowled.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.