Bomb: A Day in the Life of Spencer Shrike
Page 8

 J.A. Huss

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I can hear her stomping her foot and growling out obscenities after I leave. Vic is waiting for me at the front door. He opens it and I walk through, then he follows.
“What’s up?” I ask as I walk to my truck.
“You ever meet that new guy in town, Spencer? Drake what-the-fuck’s-his-name?”
“Cikes,” I hiss. “Drake Cikes. Is she going out with that f**k tonight?” Fucking Drake, I’ll kill that mother—
“No, she’s been sorta seeing an accountant or something. Real boring guy, she’s into the boring ones right now.”
“What?” She really is dating that f**k from the alley. “Wait, the boring ones? She’s dating more than one?”
“Spencer, that’s her business. I’m asking about that Drake f**k. Because I saw him over by your new place the other night. Stalking around the building. I was walking home from a fun night out with that redhead from Cat Call, and he was nosing around. And I know your showroom in Broomfield was just robbed. So—you know. He might be your guy.”
I grunt a little but I don’t give anything away. My team is in too deep with this shit to be copping out to some bullshit spouted off by Vic Vaughn. “Nah,” I say. “I got a lead on that other incident, and it’s not him.”
Vic nods. I’m not sure if it’s a conspiratorial nod or just a regular nod, so I let it go. “OK then. Take it easy. And Spencer?” I’m already turning to go when he calls me back. “Stay the f**k away from Veronica until she says otherwise. I will kick your ass over this. She’s happy. I’m not sure what she’s doing, but whatever it is, she’s happy. Leave her alone.”
And then he turns and walks back into the shop.
Chapter Five
Leave her alone, my ass.
I repeat that in my head over and over again as I wait for the girl at Big City Burrito to make my dinner. Fucking whatever. Ronnie is mine. Ronnie has always been mine. I own her ass. She’s belonged to me since that very first night at the shop. And if she thinks I’m just gonna give her up after all these years, she’s on some pretty powerful drugs.
I won’t.
I might ignore her, but I have my reasons and that life is almost wrapped up. I can feel it. We’re gonna wrap all that illegal shit up and move on. Ford’s f**king married and has a kid, Ronin will have Rook roped in very soon, I can already see that shit coming. And I’ll be damned if those two ass**les think they’re gonna become all mature and shit before I do.
Fuck that.
I’m the mature one on this team. I’m the one who has a real career. I’ve got three businesses, plus that little campground out in Nebraska. I’m on TV, I have my own line of custom bikes, and I’ve got the whole body art painting thing going. I’m bona fide. I’m on my way up. I’ve got plans, I’ve got big, big plans.
And Ron the Bomb has always been part of it. Shit, has that woman no memory? How could she have forgotten our first date?
“Shrike!” the burrito girl yells as she hands my dinner to Carla, the girl who runs the register.
I walk up to the counter and grab the bag. “Gracias, Carla.”
“See ya mañana, Spencer.”
She winks at me and I wink back and shoot her with my finger. “Tomorrow, baby. We’re on. Pick you up at eight.”
“I’ll have my boots on, handsome!”
I chuckle as I walk out. Fucking Carla, gotta love that girl. She makes all my Thursday nights better. We’ve had a Thursday night date for almost two months now. I kinda like it too. She’s one helluva cowgirl. Fridays I hang out with Renee from the Cat Call while she’s at work. I got a new regular for Saturday. Kim from the Harley store down south in Broomfield. I don’t usually go in there since I own my own bike shop and we sell or make everything I need custom. But I was looking for a specific set of pegs for the new bike I’m thinking about building, and I found a guy from Craigslist who had them, and he just happened to work at the Harley shop.
Sunday I go home to see the folks for dinner. It’s a thing I can’t get out of even if I wanted to. My old man would kick my ass if I didn’t show up for family shit on Sundays.
So yeah, I haven’t had much time for Ronnie, but I’m a busy f**king guy. What does she want me to do? Change my whole life around? I will, eventually, but not yet. I’m not ready for that yet. Too much shit to get done.
I get back in my truck and head home. Once I get past the little town of La Porte there’s nothing else around, so I grab my burrito and start chowing. When you live thirty minutes away from the nearest real town, you learn to eat your take-out on the road. By the time I get home and let myself into the kitchen, my food is gone, my mood is even more sour, and I’m totally unsatisfied. I will go see Ronnie at eleven when she gets off, I do not care what Vic says. Ronnie and I have history.
I walk down the hallway towards my office and key in the code that controls the locks. This was Ronin’s brilliant idea. And it is pretty brilliant. Key codes instead of keys. You always have a key and you always have a record of when the door is accessed.
I flip the light on and take it all in. Every wall is covered with pictures of Veronica. She was my body painting model for almost three years. I have touched every inch of her beautiful body with my paintbrush. And I do mean every inch. I even painted her hair once. She hated that and I laugh just thinking about it.
Our life together started the moment I saw her and Vic arguing outside the CSU bookstore. And while I did have to wrangle a gun out of her hand to get the first real date, the second time I talked to her, things went a whole other way.