Chapter Twenty-Four
Ever the punctual one, Ramirez arrived just shy of two hours, bearing gifts in the form of more pizzas than three people could—or should be able to—consume.
Most people are not me.
I had done my due diligence as well and after helping Martin tidy up the rest of the kitchen, I brewed enough coffee—both leaded and unleaded—to last us well until dawn, if needed.
Nicoh, who had been quietly watching from his perch in the living room, inched his way toward the aroma wafting from the kitchen island and was nearly successful in snagging an entire box nestled near Martin’s elbow—until I busted him.
“Mep. No way are you getting a piece of this pie, buddy. Try that again and you’ll be drooling from outside the slider.” Ramirez and Martin chuckled when Nicoh bemoaned his poor
