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The bartender said something to Philip and gestured toward the back room. Philip nodded and headed that way without a single glance in my direction as he passed. My guess was that he planned to duck out the back door, though I already saw girls angling in his direction like sharks scenting hunky blood in the water.

I gave Randy a fervent smile. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “There’s dirty fighting, and then there’s fighting dirty, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” I rubbed the crook of my left arm where it still had a bit of tingle. “It’s okay. I’ll get her back someday when she’s not expecting it.”

Randy chuckled, and the last of the anger slipped away from the set of his shoulders. “Carol Ann’s gonna be pissed when she can think straight again,” he said, smile tugging at his mouth that told me he didn’t really care and that he’d enjoyed the scene as much as any of the others. Probably would’ve enjoyed it more if we’d ended up in a classic roll-on-the-floor catfight where we ripped each other’s clothes off, but I could forgive him that since he’d stepped in when I needed the help.

“What are you doin’ down here?” he asked, cocking his head. “Come back for a little of what I got?”

Here I’d been worried that Randy would tell me to fuck off, kind of the way I’d told him to fuck off the last time I’d seen him—right after he asked me to steal drugs from the Coroner’s Office for Clive to sell. We sure as hell hadn’t parted in a nice way. Then again, we’d broken up and got back together so many times over the four years we’d dated, he’d apparently taken it in stride just like all the other breakups, even though it’d been over a year.

Hell, if he really thought I wanted to get back together with him, who was I to set him straight? An uncomfortable tickle of guilt fluttered in my belly for leading him on, and I couldn’t entirely push it away. Randy was a loser, sure, but we’d been losers together, and right now he was a loser I needed. So, what the hell did that make me?

I just gotta be careful, that’s all, I told myself as I put on a smile for him. “Yeah, something like that.” That part wasn’t a lie. I was back for a little of what he got.

He moved closer. “Where’s that cop asshole you been fucking?”

“We broke up,” I said and shrugged, doing my best to keep the ache of it off my face.

Lingering tension in his face relaxed in what seemed like relief. “I like the sound of that.” He leaned against the post beside me. “You need another beer?”

“I can’t stay long,” I said, and set the barely touched beer down on a convenient table. “Can I come by your place in a bit? There’s something I need to ask you.”

Pleased surprise lit his eyes. “Sure you can.” He grinned. “I got answers for all your questions.”

“I bet you do,” I said, unable to resist a low chuckle at the good ole Randy charm.

The women’s bathroom door opened, and a sniveling Carol Ann came out, flanked and supported by her two cronies. Randy glanced at her then gave me an easy smile. “It’s gonna take me a while to clean up the mess here. How ’bout I see you in an hour or so?”

“An hour or so it is.” I gave him a wink and a smile, then turned and sauntered out, sashaying as much as my skinny hips would allow. As soon as I made it outside and the door closed behind me I blew out a breath and let myself slump. Philip pushed off from the wall where he’d managed to be damn near invisible in the shadows, judging by the startled reactions of the junkies clustered near the corner of the building. They skittered off like roaches in sunlight when Philip moved toward me.

“You sure you’re okay?” he said as he raked an assessing look over me.

“Yeah. Thanks for having my back,” I replied, then grinned. “Worth getting zapped to deck that skanky bitch.”

Amusement lit his eyes. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “I’m going to his trailer in about an hour.”

“He has a vehicle we can use?”

“Dunno yet, but at least he’s willing to talk to me.”

We returned to where the car was parked on the perimeter of the lot, and I settled in the back with Naomi. Philip climbed into the front passenger seat, then tossed a small handful of cocktail napkins onto the dash before giving Kyle a sly look.

“Seven, in under three minutes.”

Kyle gave a dry chuckle. “Nice.”

Naomi frowned. “Seven what?”

I leaned forward to peer at the napkins, then laugh-groaned. “Phone numbers of girls who thought Philip was a filet steak in a room full of cafeteria hamburgers.”

“Good lord,” Naomi breathed. “I’m surprised he made it out alive.”

“It was touch and go for a minute there,” Philip replied. “Or rather, I felt touches where I didn’t want them and knew it was time to go!

And on that note we got the hell out of there.

Once we were away from the bar and headed to the highway I downed some dehydrated brain chips then filled the others in on the conversation with Randy. Naomi remained fairly quiet while I spoke, and I figured she still thought it was a bad idea to ask Randy for help. Hell, she was probably right, but no one else had come up with a better solution. And, no, stealing a random car was not a better solution.

“He was cool?” she finally asked. “No jealousy crap?”

“He was cool,” I replied. “I think he got turned on when I knocked his girlfriend on her ass.”

Kyle made a noise that sounded almost like a snort of laughter, but when I looked at him his face was as stoic as ever.

I gave Kyle directions, a little surprised when he knew the roads. Randy didn’t exactly live in a high-traffic area of St. Edwards Parish.

At least I thought he knew them. I straightened when he made a right instead of a left onto Locust Lane. “Hey, you went the wrong way. You need to go toward the river.”

His gaze was on the rearview mirror but he wasn’t looking at me. “Tail,” he said and it took me a couple of seconds to understand.

“Shit!” Immediately I craned around in my seat to peer behind us. “How do you know? Maybe it’s just someone else going the same way?”

He was nice and didn’t give me an Are you fucking kidding me? I really do know what I’m doing look and simply said, “Made two turns with us plus this one.”

Fair enough. If Kyle said we had a tail, we had a tail. “Can you tell who it is?” Saberton or Tribe? I didn’t need to say it. We all wondered the same thing.

“Headlights,” he said simply. “No details.” Then, “Hang on.”

He made a sharp turn and floored it, but the other car obviously had a better engine. Within seconds they were right behind us. I clung to the seat, utterly certain that our pursuers were about to ram us and send us flying off the road.

Kyle abruptly did something that I couldn’t follow at all. I only knew it involved brakes and tight turns and skidding, and at one point we were going backward at what had to be sixty miles-per-hour, but when we straightened out we’d miraculously gained a substantial lead.

“Holy shit, I know this area!” I said as I realized where we were, practically flapping my hands in excitement. “There’s a game trail I used to take back in junior high and high school when . . .” I hesitated, then realized these guys wouldn’t hold my past against me. “It leads to a clearing where some of us used to smoke pot. It goes on through to the road that runs past Randy’s property.” I’d met Randy for the first time in that clearing.