Page 66 of Secondhand Soul

And he kisses me back. Hungry. Growling into it. Leaning into me. “Thank you,” I breathe when he pushes me back. “That was an amazing plan—and watching you stand up to Pazzy?” I wink when I use the nickname. “That was awesome.”

“We’ll see if it works. It probably won’t. Stubborn ass.”

“I know. But you and I can take him on. Or whatever he throws at us.”

Lazarus nods. Then his face closes over again. “There’s no ‘us.’”

His actions don’t match his words, but nothing I’ve said has worked before. Maybe... Maybe it’s best to play it cool, and let him see for himself that I’m worth having on his side. That I will be on his side, whatever happens, whether it is fighting mobsters or babysitting preemies and ordering oil filters.

“Well. Thanks, anyway,” I whisper, stepping back, wrapping my arms around myself. “Um. I’ll clean up and drive myself home. You need to sleep. And I’m sure you want to call Rhea and Manny and see how everything went.”

“It’s late. If it were anything big, they’d call. I’ll clean up. You drive on home.”

“Okay. Thanks. Bye, Laz.”

“Bye, Vic.”

Chapter Eighteen:

Christmas with the Criminals

“LAZARUS. LAZARUS, COME back here and listen like a man instead of a three-year-old." Manny leaves the service office and chases me into the stockroom.

“Hey, there's only a little bit less than that on my clock, but I’m never going to get any older, am I?” I wear a bitter smile and come to a halt, not because Manny told me to, but because I’m where I want to be, in front of the oil filter shelves.

“Sweet Jesus, not this again. We play the hand we're dealt, kid. You got out of California and came here for a better life, and everyone has welcomed you with open arms. Rhea! Rhea, will you come talk to your son? He’s acting like a bear with a sore head.”

That is accurate. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen Victoria.

It’s making me... Irritated. Yeah, I know that it shouldn’t. Since when do I listen to myself? Or anyone else?

“What’s wrong, honey?” a maternal voice croons.

I bite my tongue, not because I’m trying to be agreeable, but because Rhea is rushing towards me, and that look of motherly concern on her face is my kryptonite.

“Nothing is wrong,” I mutter.

“Something is wrong!” Manny counters, tone exasperated. “Whatever it is, it’s getting worse.”

“Sweetie, you shouldn’t even try to have this conversation on an empty stomach. Both of you get cranky when you’re hungry.” Rhea passes through the shop and straightens my wild white hair—which instantly resists her touch and goes right back to an untidy mess that makes me look like I’ve been electrified (shocker) and gives me Goblin King vibes.

“This isn’t about being hungry!” I call out, but Rhea’s already heading back to the tiny little galley kitchen behind the service office.

“What is it about?” Manny asks. “Is it about the event at the library this week?”

Library?

Where Victoria hangs out when she can’t stand the RV for another second?

Where I keep loitering, hoping to catch a glimpse, just to make sure she’s okay, even though I know she’s perfectly fine because I hear Rhea talk to her each day?

Yeah, let’s seize on that.

“Yeah. The library thing. I’m not going. I don’t want to be around all of those people. All of the fa-la-la-la-losers who get together with strangers and celebrate.”

“Once you meet people, they stop being strangers,” he points out.

“Ha ha, very profound.” But it is kinda true. “You keep on saying that. I told you, I don’t need you to find me a playmate like the dad at the park who’s got the weird son who eats boogers. There’s a reason the other kiddies avoid me.” I glare.