“Explain,” he barked to his friends.
Mo was looking at his feet.
The rest of them were grinning audaciously at us.
“I’m not hearing any words,” Mag warned.
“You see,” Boone began, “there’s a pool.”
I was not keeping up.
I’d barely processed the fact the activities had been interrupted.
Why was Boone talking about a pool?
“It’s a Rock Chick thing,” Axl explained as he sauntered in further. “We all got in late, our slots on when you two are gonna seal the deal aren’t for two weeks, Lots said you guys were goin’ at it yesterday morning, and we’re dudes, so we know the drill, consequently we figured we had to instigate some evasive maneuvers early in the morning.”
Mo’s head came up. “I didn’t place a bet. I’m here ’cause I got an update. These jackasses just wouldn’t let me knock.”
Oh God.
I didn’t have one frat boy on my hands.
I had four.
I looked up at Mag and snapped, “You need to confiscate keys.”
“No kidding,” he said angrily, but his gaze was still aimed at his buds.
“Mag’s making pancakes,” the one I had not met yet, who I assumed was Auggie, declared.
“Fuck yeah,” Boone replied happily.
“I’m not feeding you all pancakes,” Mag declared.
“Am I on Evan today or what?” Auggie asked. And before Mag could answer, he went on, “That’s a marker. And my payback is your pancakes.”
“His pancakes are freaking brilliant,” Axl told me.
“Totally got the touch with pancakes,” Boone muttered.
They were all milling about, taking stools at the island, or leaning into it. Axl even rounded it to head to the coffeepot.
All while Mag and I stood in each other’s arms, staring (or more aptly, glaring) at them.
Most women, maybe every breathing one on the face of the planet, would not be crotchety at the company I was keeping right then.
This was because Boone was a tall, dark-blond, green-eyed Adonis.
Axl had a full head of silver hair, prematurely that color or he was born with it, I didn’t know, but it was fabulous, and coupled with his ice-blue eyes, he was a sight to behold.
And I couldn’t be sure, it was a fantastical thought, but from the sheer perfection of Auggie’s swarthy good looks, he might actually be a Greek god roaming the earth.
Even so.
Them being there, I was crotchety.
Rationally (and such thoughts were not coming to me fast enough around Mag), I should be glad for the interruption.
Attacking Mag first thing in the morning was not conducive to me eventually gently extricating myself from his life, after, of course, I gave him what it was clear he needed, the opportunity to look after me while things were uncertain.
But I was far from glad for the interruption.
I felt it before Mag demonstrated he had a lock on his condition, his demonstration taking the form of putting his hands under my arms, twisting and planting my ass on his counter, then pulling himself up beside me.
And once he had us where he wanted us, he honed in on Mo.
“You got an update?” he prompted before he turned to Axl. “Pour a cup for Evie. She takes a shot of cream.”
Axl was grinning hugely as he muttered, “Gotcha,” and reached for another mug.
Mag looked back at Mo.
“Yeah?” he pushed.
Mo glanced at me and back to Mag.
I read what that meant.
“Oh no,” I said. “I get to know. I’m not kept in the dark.”
“She’s not kept in the dark,” Mag confirmed.
Mo’s barrel chest expanded, and he blew out a sigh that I was pretty certain wafted my hair back before he leaned into a hand on the island.
I braced because none of that seemed a precursor to good news.
“Snag, short for Snaggletooth, street name for Fletcher Gumm,” Mo began. “He runs a couple of girls.”
I went solid.
That guy I met, a guy my brother knew, ran a couple of girls?
“He’s a pimp?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Mo verified shortly. “Evie, did you look into that bag?”
“Danny did,” I said.
“Danny,” Auggie muttered amusedly.
Mag ignored him and stated, “Oxy, meth, coke, a lot of it.”
“So much they’d tear Evan’s place apart?” Mo asked.
That was when I felt Mag go solid.
He then hopped off the counter, wrapped his fingers around my knee, and laser focused on Mo.
“We didn’t empty the bag,” he shared. He looked to me. “Did you go through it?”
I shook my head.
He turned back to Mo.
“Well, Boone and I had the occasion to chat with a few of Snag’s girls last night,” Mo said.
Great.
Absolutely fabulous.
My brother’s crap meant Mo and Boone had to find then chat with prostitutes.
“Snag is in the wind,” Mo continued. “But one of his girls said one of his other girls had a john who had something she decided she wanted. Snag found out about it. He commandeered it. Word got out she stole it, and now she’s dead.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Though, before she was taken out, she shared Snag had it. Now he’s in the wind.”