Holding Strong
Page 96
“Tell you what,” Armie said with snide joviality. “Go fuck yourself.”
“You’ll regret that.”
“Yeah?” Glad to egg him on, to have a new focus other than his own haunted future, Armie smiled into the phone. “Let’s get together and talk about it in person. What do you think?”
“Suits me.”
Perfect.“Where do I find you?”
A laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Now that I’m in Warfield, I promise...I’ll find you.”
The call ended.
It took two seconds for the implications of that to sink in, then Armie turned with a purpose and strode back into the restaurant.
When he reached the table, he saw the food set out—and everyone waiting on him. He’d dodged the possibilities long enough. Time to face reality.
Time to move forward.
Without sitting, he drew out forty bucks and tossed them on the table, then stuck his hand out to Havoc. “I’ll take your offer.”
Slowly, Havoc pushed back his chair, his mood wary. “We haven’t discussed the contract yet.”
“Cannon can deal with that for me.” He shook Havoc’s hand, then reached past him to do the same with Simon. “A pleasure to meet you both in person.”
“Just that easy?” Simon didn’t smile now.
“Something’s come up.”
“I see.” Simon clasped Armie’s hand. “You don’t have any questions?”
“No time. Maybe later.” He turned to Cannon. “I need a word with you.”
Cannon had already stood, attuned to a problem. Armie decided he’d call Denver on his way to the rec center.
Nothing like facing someone else’s troubles to put your own into perspective.
Together, they went as far as the front doors. In hushed tones, Armie explained about the call.
“You’re sure it was him?” Cannon asked.
“Positive.” And he had a bad premonition about things. “You haven’t met the cretins, but Denver is right to be worried. I don’t like them, any of them, and if they’re actually here, in Warfield now—”
“I’ll come with you,” Cannon said.
“What, and leave things hanging with those two?” He hitched a thumb toward where both Havoc and Simon watched them from their table.
“They’ll keep.”
Meaning Cannon had his priorities, too, and as usual Armie was one of them. Facing a faulty future with a really great friend made it more bearable. “No, you stay. I’ve got it covered. We’ll all keep an eye out. But maybe later you could—”
“Set up a network. Yeah, I’ll do that. Tell Denver I’ll give him a call tonight.”
Long ago, Cannon had made connections to damn near everyone in the neighborhood, some older and retired, some young and at risk. He knew the good and the bad, and many in the middle who saw and heard things that others didn’t. When necessary, he could glean information from the streets in a way the cops never could.
Nodding, Armie mused aloud, “Denver won’t let Cherry out of his sight.”
Cannon grinned. “I have a feeling he’d have kept her close regardless. Those two are constantly either antagonizing each other, or setting off sparks hot enough to start a fire.”
Armie grinned. “Yeah, they’re even more entertaining than Gage and Harper were.” He rubbed his mouth, then glanced again at the two veteran fighters. “I didn’t want to mention any of this in front of them. Don’t want them thinking Denver is divided on things while he needs to be focused on his training.”
“I’m guessing they’ve been around long enough to know fighters can multitask.”
“Especially when a woman is involved?”
“The right woman, sure.” Cannon crossed his arms. “You okay with how this rolled out?”
“What? Having my best friend sabotage me while colluding with the enemy? Sure. Why would I mind that?”
Censuring, Cannon said, “They’re not the enemy.”
Armie laughed. “Not anymore anyway.” How did he feel about it? Guarded. Resigned. “You said it, it’s time. Couldn’t drag my feet forever.”
“You’re not facing anything alone. You know that, right?”
He did. For as long as he could remember, Cannon had been like a brother to him. Better than a brother, even. “It’s fine—but right now, I want to get hold of Denver.”
“I’ll call him. You just get to the rec center in case there’s a setup.” Cannon pulled keys from his pocket. “Take my car. I’ll grab a ride with Simon and Havoc. And Armie? Be alert.”
“You’ll regret that.”
“Yeah?” Glad to egg him on, to have a new focus other than his own haunted future, Armie smiled into the phone. “Let’s get together and talk about it in person. What do you think?”
“Suits me.”
Perfect.“Where do I find you?”
A laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Now that I’m in Warfield, I promise...I’ll find you.”
The call ended.
It took two seconds for the implications of that to sink in, then Armie turned with a purpose and strode back into the restaurant.
When he reached the table, he saw the food set out—and everyone waiting on him. He’d dodged the possibilities long enough. Time to face reality.
Time to move forward.
Without sitting, he drew out forty bucks and tossed them on the table, then stuck his hand out to Havoc. “I’ll take your offer.”
Slowly, Havoc pushed back his chair, his mood wary. “We haven’t discussed the contract yet.”
“Cannon can deal with that for me.” He shook Havoc’s hand, then reached past him to do the same with Simon. “A pleasure to meet you both in person.”
“Just that easy?” Simon didn’t smile now.
“Something’s come up.”
“I see.” Simon clasped Armie’s hand. “You don’t have any questions?”
“No time. Maybe later.” He turned to Cannon. “I need a word with you.”
Cannon had already stood, attuned to a problem. Armie decided he’d call Denver on his way to the rec center.
Nothing like facing someone else’s troubles to put your own into perspective.
Together, they went as far as the front doors. In hushed tones, Armie explained about the call.
“You’re sure it was him?” Cannon asked.
“Positive.” And he had a bad premonition about things. “You haven’t met the cretins, but Denver is right to be worried. I don’t like them, any of them, and if they’re actually here, in Warfield now—”
“I’ll come with you,” Cannon said.
“What, and leave things hanging with those two?” He hitched a thumb toward where both Havoc and Simon watched them from their table.
“They’ll keep.”
Meaning Cannon had his priorities, too, and as usual Armie was one of them. Facing a faulty future with a really great friend made it more bearable. “No, you stay. I’ve got it covered. We’ll all keep an eye out. But maybe later you could—”
“Set up a network. Yeah, I’ll do that. Tell Denver I’ll give him a call tonight.”
Long ago, Cannon had made connections to damn near everyone in the neighborhood, some older and retired, some young and at risk. He knew the good and the bad, and many in the middle who saw and heard things that others didn’t. When necessary, he could glean information from the streets in a way the cops never could.
Nodding, Armie mused aloud, “Denver won’t let Cherry out of his sight.”
Cannon grinned. “I have a feeling he’d have kept her close regardless. Those two are constantly either antagonizing each other, or setting off sparks hot enough to start a fire.”
Armie grinned. “Yeah, they’re even more entertaining than Gage and Harper were.” He rubbed his mouth, then glanced again at the two veteran fighters. “I didn’t want to mention any of this in front of them. Don’t want them thinking Denver is divided on things while he needs to be focused on his training.”
“I’m guessing they’ve been around long enough to know fighters can multitask.”
“Especially when a woman is involved?”
“The right woman, sure.” Cannon crossed his arms. “You okay with how this rolled out?”
“What? Having my best friend sabotage me while colluding with the enemy? Sure. Why would I mind that?”
Censuring, Cannon said, “They’re not the enemy.”
Armie laughed. “Not anymore anyway.” How did he feel about it? Guarded. Resigned. “You said it, it’s time. Couldn’t drag my feet forever.”
“You’re not facing anything alone. You know that, right?”
He did. For as long as he could remember, Cannon had been like a brother to him. Better than a brother, even. “It’s fine—but right now, I want to get hold of Denver.”
“I’ll call him. You just get to the rec center in case there’s a setup.” Cannon pulled keys from his pocket. “Take my car. I’ll grab a ride with Simon and Havoc. And Armie? Be alert.”
