Extreme Prejudice by Dharma Kelleher

Author:Dharma Kelleher [Kelleher, Dharma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780979173042
Publisher: Dark Pariah Press

28

“Wake up, sleepyhead! Time to catch bad guys.”

I opened my eyes to a Conor-shaped silhouette in front of a window. His eyes burned like lasers into my skull. Or maybe that was just the sunlight coming through. My mouth tasted of cotton flavored with tequila and cat shit. My body felt as if I’d somersaulted off the top of the Papago Buttes. My hair smelled like puke.

“I…whuh?” My mouth didn’t seem to want to kick into gear.

Conor stepped away from the window, pulling a shirt over his ripped body. “Come on, love. We both got people to track down.”

I pulled myself into a seated position on the bed and stared at the floor until the room quit spinning. I could tell from the tile we were at Conor’s bunker. “What the hell happened last night?”

“I picked ya up at L Street after Chelsea called me.”

“Why would Chelsea call you?”

“Prolly ’cause ya were shite-faced, and she didn’t want to deal with your drunken nonsense any longer.”

I sneered at him. “Rude.”

“Aye. That you were.” He wasn’t smiling much. So not like him.

“Well, thanks for that, I guess.”

“Come on. We gotta go.”

“Just go on. I’ve got a key. I’ll head out when I’m feeling a little more human.”

“Yer lorry’s still at the bar.”

Vague memories of being at the bar flitted in and out of reach. A deep desire to kiss Chelsea’s pillowy blue lips bubbled up, as well. “Oh yeah. Damn, I hope I didn’t do anything stupid.”

“Aside from dancing naked on the bar while cry-singing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’—”

“What?” My jaw hit the floor.

“Just funnin’ with ya. Ya weren’t naked. At least not in the video posted on L Street’s Facebook page.”

“Fuck.” I pulled on my clothes and shoes. My phone showed that Sadie had texted me, asking if I’d caught Pratt yet. Shit.

“Let’s pick up the Gray Ghost before some wanker takes it for a joyride or uses it as a canvas for a spray-painted public art project.” Conor tossed me my keys. “Then ya can go home and make yerself presentable.”

“I’m presentable,” I protested, trying to finger comb the knots out of my hair.

“Aye! I forgot ‘homeless hipster’ is the popular new look these days. That shiner ya got makes quite the fashion statement. Purple’s a good color on ya.”

I flipped him off and followed him out to his Dodge Charger. Men and their muscle cars.

A while later, we pulled into the L Street parking lot. Thankfully, the Gray Ghost was still there with all four tires and no custom paint jobs. A piece of paper under the windshield wipers warned me of hellfire and damnation unless I repented of my perverted lifestyle and surrendered to white Jesus. I crumpled it and tossed it into a dumpster.

Conor walked with me to the door of my SUV. “I’m sorry I’ve been so pushy about moving in together. I know you’re working through a lot, especially with that gobshite of a boxer being back in town. But I want ya to know I’m here for ya.

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