Dry Run Page 7

  Trig, hands fisted, arms flexed, moved shoulder to shoulder with Devin. Zeke stood on Joe’s right. They created a wall of muscle united against Victor, supporting Joe. Even in this tense moment, excitement fluttered in Devin’s belly. Standing in this row, he belonged.

  “You’re so tough with three bodyguards around you,” Victor said. “Let’s you and me go it alone. See who should really be the boss around here.”

  “Do you not remember puking in a trash can, you fuckwad?” Devin asked. “He’s already beat your ass.”

  Victor glared, and Joe stepped on Devin’s toes.

  Devin couldn’t tell whether Joe was thanking him or telling him to shut the hell up, but he didn’t care one way or the other. People like Victor, people who’d try to take unwanted liberties with another person, they didn’t deserve anyone thinking good things about them.

  “No one asked you, gabacho.” Victor stepped to his right and lined up with Devin. “Or do you want to be the big man now?”

  “Joe’s the man,” Devin said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. “I follow him. You need to stand down.”

  “Let’s go,” Joe said. “We’ll be late if we don’t move.”

  He turned his back on Victor and walked away.

  It took two beats, maybe three, before Devin and the rest of the group followed. When he caught up, he leaned a shoulder into Joe.

  “Later,” Joe said, and Devin kept his questions in check.

  The group buzzed with activity as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, though Devin caught the apprehensive glances at Joe and at Victor, who languished behind the rest of the runners.

  What was Victor after? He didn’t like Joe. That was clear. But what did he have to gain by provoking the leader of the group?

  Curiosity over Victor’s behavior carried Devin the rest of the way to the corporate office. Sam, the security guard Devin had met the first day, patted Joe’s cheek and gave him a warm smile then traded joking insults with Flix and Marcus before he let them in.

  The office smelled like sandwich meat, and the runners filed into a small meeting room filled with rectangular white tables, each with two chairs, all facing the same direction. Back at the Flats, Joe had told Devin this would be where they’d get their weekly assignments. He shuffled along behind Joe, his eyes on the small of his partner’s back, and took a seat next to him at the front of the room. Scattered, quiet muttering died out when the weaselly little man with the squirmy mustache and weak chin, Mr. Boggs, came in.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Boggs said. His smarmy smile made Devin’s skin crawl. He’d pegged the guy for a creep the moment he’d met him.

  From the assembled runners came murmurs and grunts of greeting. Boggs must have been satisfied because he kept talking.

  “I have your assignments for the next week. Joe will hand them out for me.” Boggs motioned, but Joe was already on the move, handing out beige folders to pairs of runners. “If you need help reading the files, please raise your hand and Joe or I will assist you.”

  A number of hands went up, and Joe slapped a folder labeled A+ on the table in front of Devin. “Read through the first assignment. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and we’ll go over it together.”

  Devin had tried for a long time not to think of the things he’d be asked to do as a member of Flights of Fantasy, and now he held a folder outlining every detail of his new job. He didn’t want to read what was in store for him. His mother’s novels had sometimes hinted at what a man could force a person to do, how much damage could be done by someone in a position of power.

  At the next table, Joe bent over a pair of runners. His voice was quiet as he read to them, and Devin couldn’t hear what he was saying. Boggs stood two tables away, reading loud to Dottie and Aubrey about how they’d demean themselves for a rich man’s pleasure, when he looked up and caught Devin listening.

  “Is there a problem, young Devin?” His voice was too solicitous and friendly. “Do you need help reading?”

  “I’m—”

  “I’ve got it.” Joe moved between Boggs and Devin, blocking Devin’s view. “Everyone has the gist of their first two assignments, so I’m going to work with Devin now.”

  “These assignments go through Wednesday, Mr. Boggs,” Marcus said, waving his folder. “Does that mean we can have Thanksgiving off?”

  “Hmm,” Boggs said, putting a hand to his chin as though he was considering it. “I don’t know. We’re finally getting temperatures below the hundreds. Business will be picking up. What do you think, Joseph? Would you like your friends to have a holiday?”

  If Boggs was the boss, why would Joe’s opinion matter? Joe must’ve recognized it, too, the weirdness. He’d cupped his hands behind his back, right in Devin’s face, and when Boggs asked, Joe’s knuckles went white and his nails dug into his palms. Devin brushed his hand over the back of Joe’s knee, where Boggs couldn’t see.

  Everyone in the room, it seemed, had stopped reading and was watching Joe.

  “I’d like us to have Thanksgiving off, yes,” Joe said, and those nails dug deeper into his skin.

  “Good, good.” Boggs’s words contained an air of conquest. “We’ll take Thanksgiving off. Perhaps I’ll spend it with Candy.”

  Flix pumped the air and gave Marcus a high five before he beamed at Joe. His hero worship, or whatever it was, was awfully intense.

  Knees bumped together as Joe sat next to Devin. The contact was on purpose, Devin knew.

  Moving his head close to Joe’s and speaking softly, Devin asked, “What was all that?”

  “Business.”

  “It seemed like something different.”

  “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s focus on our clients.” Joe laid his head on his forearm and read their file, using his finger to follow the words on the paper.

  “You’re too small to carry all the weight you do.”

  Joe’s head shot up, and he regarded Devin with a slightly opened mouth and a tilted head. “I have big shoulders. I’m all right.”

  Devin couldn’t help his smile. “You have big hands.”

  Joe smiled back. “And big feet.”

  “And a big—”

  Joe slapped a hand over Devin’s mouth. They both burst into quiet, stifled giggles. Joe let go and sighed. “Let’s get to work.”

  Their first run appeared to be straightforward. Meet the client while he and his wife enjoyed a picnic, threaten the wife, steal the client’s phablet (Joe had told him that was the communication device Northerners used), let him chase them through the city, get caught back where the wife could watch, and let the client bind and berate them.

  “Hero play. These are easy,” Joe said. “Do you have any questions?”

  “How do we get untied?”

  “These guys tend to tie weak knots, and I can get out or cut us out myself. If I can’t, we press a button on my timepiece and someone from corporate will find us and untie us.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous to be tied up out on the streets?” Despite what Joe had said, this job didn’t sound too easy to Devin.

  Joe shrugged. “Yes, but you’ll be with me. No one will mess with you.”

  “Does that have to do with the thing we’re going to talk about later?” Devin slipped his hand around Joe’s back and nudged the gun tucked in his waistband.

  “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “So, boys,” Boggs said from behind them. He set a hand on each of their necks. “How do you like your schedule?”

  “It’s a nice schedule, Brandon.” Joe didn’t look at Boggs when he said it. “Thanks for breaking Devin in easy.”

  “Well, Devin’s a very pretty boy and a very marketable commodity.” Boggs’s fingers slid up into Devin’s hair. Devin pressed his leg tighter to Joe’s. “And he’s underage until Wednesday. We don’t want any misunderstandings with underage boys. That would be… frowned upon.”

  “Right, so we’ll just…” Joe’s voice trailed off as Bog
gs leaned against his back.

  Boggs removed his hand from the back of Devin’s neck and pointed from Joe to Devin. “Hmm, eenie, meanie, minie, mo.”

  Their eyes met, Joe’s and Devin’s, and Joe stood up and faced Boggs. “Can I talk to you privately, Brandon?”

  Boggs smiled, wide and genuine, and that made it creepier. “I’d love to speak with you, Joesy.”

  And like that, Joe left the room with Boggs in tow.

  Devin shut the folder in front of him and shivered.

  “He just saved your gringo ass, white boy.”

  Devin scooted his chair around to face Aubrey. The metal legs screeched along the floor. Devin cringed and felt a flush creep up his neck. “What do you mean?”

  “Your boyfriend’s in there getting plowed by our skeezy boss,” Dottie said, cutting off Aubrey. “Boggs was eyeing you to get his jollies off, and Joesy took your place.”

  “That’s sick.” Devin crossed his arms over his chest and squeezed tight.

  “That’s the boss,” Zeke said. He put a huge hand on Devin’s shoulder. “Boggs thinks we’re his toys. But Joe’s his favorite, and Joe takes the heat for all of us. He’s why we’re getting Thanksgiving off, because he’s in there doing what he’s doing. But Boggs had his eye on you today. Joe’s doing you a favor, man.”

  Sickness roiled the contents of Devin’s stomach. He stood and backed away. “Disgusting.”

  “Are you calling Joe disgusting for saving your ass?” Flix was so small that when he stormed around the table he poked Devin in the stomach, not the chest. Devin, horrified as he was, stifled a laugh.

  “No, God. No. The boss using us. That’s sick. I don’t mean Joe. Jesus.”

  In a quieter voice, Flix, his eyes uncertain, asked, “Are you what Dottie said? Is Joe your boyfriend?”

  If the entire room hadn’t been focused on Devin before, they were now. In the back of the room, Bea and Victor both stared at Devin, their hunger palpable.

  “That’s between me and him.”

  The truth would have been easier. It would have been fair. But in that moment, Devin didn’t want Bea to think she had a chance. He didn’t want Flix to get his hopes up for something that Joe would never let happen. He wanted to wipe that dirty, calculating smirk off Victor’s face.

  Bea rolled her eyes and Flix’s shoulders slumped as he dragged himself back to his brother, but Victor, still with that wolfish leer on his face, watched until Devin looked away.

  “You make enemies where you need to make friends, Dev.” Trig gestured from the next table over. His hand swept slightly toward Bea and Victor. “Joe may be the leader, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be challenged.”

  “But you have his back, right?” The words came out a bit too brusque. Devin took a deep breath and tried again. “I mean, you’d support Joe over Victor, right?”

  “Of course we would,” Roxy said. Her hand on Trig’s biceps was dwarfed by his muscle. “That’s not what Trig’s saying. Don’t make more enemies.”

  “I want to understand. That’s all. You guys had all this group shit set up before I came, and I know me coming and Bea and Joe breaking up and Victor moving up from B changed things. Joe doesn’t talk about it. Can you explain it?”

  “All we’re saying is that we support Joe — Trig and Zeke wouldn’t have stood with him on the walk here when Victor challenged him if we didn’t — but we don’t set out to get on anyone else’s bad side. It’s politics, kiddo.” Roxy swung herself up on the table and sat facing Devin. “Joe won’t be in charge forever. He could fall out of favor with Boggs. He could get hurt. He could leave. It pays to make friends, even if the friends are a little, well, not nice.”

  “I don’t want to be Victor’s friend. He’s a bully.”

  Zeke shrugged with one shoulder. His hands fidgeted. Devin figured he was anxious to get back to the Flats to check on Ebony. “He’s not that bad a lot of the time. He and Joe have a history, and that makes him more ugly than he normally is. Joe hates him.”

  “Joe has good reason,” Devin said.

  “Do you really know that? They’ve known each other for six or seven years. You’ve known Joe for two weeks.” Zeke sighed and patted Devin’s shoulder some more. “You can’t know it all, even if you two spend all your time curled up in bed together swapping stories, which, by the way, I know you don’t. Victor’s always been nice enough to Ebony and me.”

  “To me and Roxy, too,” Trig added.

  “Joe has our loyalty because he’s a good guy and he’s in there letting Boggs do what he wants with him to keep the rest of us from having to do it and to make our lives better,” Roxy said. Her soft brown eyes made Devin think of Joe. “But if someone else stepped up and started doing the things Joe does for us, we’d be hard pressed not to follow him. Or her.” Roxy tilted her head toward Bea.

  Joe returned then, lips red and hair mussed.

  That seemed to be the cue everyone was waiting for. All the runners crowded around Joe. Zeke and Devin hung back.

  “Don’t make him feel weird about it,” Zeke whispered.

  Devin nodded and picked up his folder. The runners stood in a loose circle, and Devin tried to wedge in next to Joe, but Flix grabbed Joe’s hand. Devin rolled his eyes and swung around toward Joe’s other side, only to be beaten to it by Marcus, who grimaced and whispered, “Sorry. Gotta have my brother’s back.”

  A small, warm hand slipped inside Devin’s, and he turned to see Roxy next to him. She smiled and indicated he should take Marcus’s hand. Devin couldn’t decide which hand in his was smaller.

  He turned back to Marcus and nudged him with his shoulder. “Family’s important.”

  “The most.” Marcus started to say more but was interrupted by Joe’s strong voice.

  “Go home, Zeke. Boggs says to give Ebony his best.”

  The grin on Zeke’s face could have split the sun in two. He broke from the circle, pulled Joe forward, and kissed the top of his head. Devin got a hard slap on the back, then Zeke was running out the door.

  Joe’s gaze landed on everyone in the circle, one by one, though it skimmed over Devin without stopping. “Bow your heads.”

  Everyone but Devin dropped their chins to their chests and closed their eyes, even Bea and Victor, and Joe started talking about blessings and God and protection. His shirt had ridden up on his side, and his biceps flexed with the bouncy movement of his and Marcus’s joined hands. Devin watched Joe’s eyelashes flutter against his pale skin and his wet, red lips move. He tried very hard not to think about what those red lips had done with Boggs.

  “Amen,” Joe said.

  The runners let go of each other and filed out of the room, most patting Joe on the back or chest. Flix stood on his tiptoes and kissed Joe’s cheek before tearing out of the room like his pants were on fire. Joe shook his head but didn’t say anything. A few moments later, Devin and Joe were alone.

  Joe smiled, but he didn’t meet Devin’s eyes. “Help me put the chairs up on the tables, will you?”

  Aside from the metal legs, the chairs were a lightweight gray plastic. It didn’t take long for the emptied room to be organized to Joe’s specifications.

  Devin had been quiet for five minutes, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “You gonna talk to me?”

  “Later.”

  “Later means never when you say it.”

  “Later means later this time, big guy. But first” — Joe picked up the folder of their assignments — “we have a run to do.”

  Four

  “I’m gonna die before we ever get there,” Devin said. He meant it, too. Returning to the Flats for food hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d thought they would be given food at the corporate office. That bastard Boggs could have spared some of those sandwiches Devin had smelled. But no.

  By the time Joe and Devin raced to the Flats, ate a quick snack, and piled Insta-food bars and water bottles into a backpack, it was time to head back downtown. Joe kept checking his
timepiece, every time walking a little faster afterward, until he and Devin were on a dead run in the late morning heat.

  Joe slowed to a jog at a huge iron gate that stood with no fence on either side. “Relax, big guy. Don’t wear yourself out. We’re here.”

  “This is the Texas State Capitol?”

  The massive pink building seemed to be in pretty good shape, aside from the atrocious color. Graffiti littered the stone, and all of the windows were broken, but the structure was intact.

  “The one and only. You’ve never seen it before?”

  Curiosity rippled through Joe’s voice. If Joe really would give him answers later, Devin supposed he could spare some now. “Nope. Everything downtown seemed so distant in the hills. Even if I’d known what the capitol looked like I might not have noticed it. Why are there touristy people here?”

  “And you never left the hills?” Joe raised an eyebrow as they tromped over the grounds. “There are tourists because the Texas Rangers, or what’s left of them, protect the Capitol grounds so it’s safe for crazy sightseers. See that guy over there with the long gun? He’s one of the Rangers.”

  “I never left my house until the day I walked down here, man. Tanner said it was too dangerous. Do we have to worry about those Ranger guys getting us? If we’re going to steal something, won’t they chase us or shoot us?”

  “Nah.” Joe tossed his shoulders back and nudged Devin. His lips were still a bit red. “They know me, know I’m working. They’ll leave you alone because you’re with me. Did you always do what Tanner said?”

  “Pretty much had no choice. The few times I didn’t, he beat the shit out of me. He was fanatical about keeping me safe.” They crunched over the crushed granite of a path. Devin recognized the color from the dead flowerbeds outside his house. “How do the clients know to expect us?”

  “They don’t. It’s part of the thrill. Unless they insist on seeing photos of us, they have no idea what we look like or when we’re coming. Did you love him?”

  “He was my brother.”

  The calloused pads of Joe’s fingertips trailed over Devin’s knuckles. “I loved my dad, too.”