In The Wind (The Nate Vigil Thrillers Book 1) by Conor Black

Author:Conor Black [Black, Conor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781961205017
Publisher: Genre Monk LLC
Published: 2023-07-26T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

Mira’s fighting Irish absorbed an impressive number of shots from the mezcal in the early rounds, but as so often happens in boxing, the Mexican fighter refused to quit, and eventually put her on her ass with a shot to the liver.

To her credit, she managed to walk out of the restaurant under her own power, but by the time they crossed paths with Barbadilla, Vigil was carrying her to the Prius. Light work, because she only weighed about a buck-twenty, tops. He eased her into the passenger seat and made sure she was buckled in.

“Thanks for driving,” she said, and then hiccuped, high-pitched like a dog’s squeak toy. “Oh, my.”

Vigil got behind the wheel. “Lemme know if you’re gonna be sick.”

“I’m fffffiiiiiiinnnnne. Not to drive, obviously. But I’m in full control of my ffffuck-you-tees—I mean—faculties.”

She giggled at this Freudian slip (if that’s what it was), and Vigil couldn’t help but grin, even though he didn’t want to encourage her.

“Clearly,” he said.

Mira said, “It wasn’t exactly a date or whatever, but I really enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.”

“I know you’re just gonna tell me I’m drunk,” she said, “and to be clear, I’m vvveeeerrrrry drunk—but you wanna know something?”

He was surprised she was still conscious. “What’s that?”

“You’re very nice to look at.”

“I suppose both things can be true at the same time,” he said.

Mira slugged him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re supposed to say I’m nice to look at, too.”

“I already told you what I think on that front.”

“Oh, right. You said I look beautiful. But maybe you were just bein’ polite?”

“I’m no kind of a sweet talker. I give you a compliment, that’s how I feel.”

“Do you still think I’m beautiful?”

It could have been his imagination, but her dress seemed to be revealing a little more cleavage than he remembered, and showing off a little more thigh, too, which Vigil knew shouldn’t be possible—not both things at the same time—because physics.

“How much could you possibly have aged in one night?” he said.

“Ha, ha. Guess that’s what I get fishing for compliments.”

She was quiet for a while and Vigil concentrated on driving between the lines and staying under the speed limit. He thought she might’ve fallen asleep finally, but shortly after he accelerated onto the interstate, Mira leaned over and rested her face against his shoulder. This didn’t seem like the most comfortable position. Not with the console in the way, grinding into her ribs. Not with his granite delts. But during his time as a bouncer he’d seen drunk people sprawled out on bathroom floors, facedown on bar tops, spread-eagled in alleys, cuddling against curbs, and even snoring in bathroom stalls with their pants down around their ankles. She could do a lot worse for a pillow, he conceded.

He listened carefully. Her breathing was barely audible over the road noise, but it seemed to have slowed. Then he felt her jaw go slack and her mouth part and he knew she was out for the count. He still wanted Mira to purchase a burner phone for him, but decided it could wait until morning.

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