Chapter 24
Tarot
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WHEN I JUMPED into the truck, Peyton seemed unusually quiet.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, putting on my sunglasses.
She cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”
I started the engine. I could tell that she was nervous. “What’s on your mind?”
“We haven’t really discussed your g**g in depth.”
I sighed. There she went again calling it a g**g. “Babe, I’m not in a ‘g**g’. I told you that. Gangs ride subways, jack cars, and rob little old ladies.”
“Sorry. Blame yourself. You f****d my brains out last night,” she replied wryly and smiled.
I laughed. “I did, didn’t I? And this morning, too.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, on a serious note—what did you want to talk about in relation to my club?”
“Are you... are you going to kill the guy who’s f*****g with you?”
A
