“I’m texting him just to mess with him,” I stated, refusing to back down. “And ‘cause I’m bored.”
Reluctant to discuss it further, I dialed the number of the one person who could actually help me.
“Happy birthday, Luz,” Detective Jordan Slade said instead of a greeting. “I was about to call you to congratulate you.”
Jordan was one of my cop buddies from the Loser’s Division, but he was a good guy. Not everyone who ended up in the LD was a bad seed.
“Thanks. Um… I need a favor. Bazooka changed his phone number again and forgot to tell me.”
Jordan whined. “Luz, I can’t get in the middle of this. I have given you his phone number three times already. He will figure out it’s me.”
“You owe me, Jordie,” I pointed out. “I helped you guys catch the Butcher of Smitsville, remember?”
Jordan let out a heavy sigh. “How could I forget when you keep reminding me? By the way, Chief Bibb is getting twitchy about you despite being grateful, just so that you know.”
“I can handle him.”
“Look, I’ll text you Bazooka’s number this one time, but it’s the last time. I don’t want him to kill me when he gets here.”
I almost fell off my chair. “What did you just say?”
Jordan groaned. “Fuck. I’m such an idiot.”
My heart was all over the place, threatening to burst out of my chest.
“Spill it, Jordie, or I’m coming to the station,” I threatened, breathless. “I’m not kidding. I’m standing up. Heading to the—”
“No, wait! He’s… erm… Bazooka is joining the LD, okay? Temporarily, though. There’s a case that’s bothering us, so he’s coming here to help us out. But don’t tell him I told you. Don’t tell anyone I told you.”
I gulped. Fucking hell. Baz was coming to Smitsville.
“I won’t tell a soul,” I said, my mind reeling. “Thanks, Jordie.”
A moment later, I got his text with Bazooka’s new phone number. I added it to my contacts as “Bazooka (my future boyfriend)” and sent Bazooka a text.
Me:You could have at least congratulated me on my birthday.
Before I could send another text saying something like, “I can’t wait to see you”, Dakotah took away my phone.
“Enough,” he said, sliding the phone into my shirt pocket. “We’re going to Nirvana. You need to dance it out of your system.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, but I’m getting drunk tonight, and don’t you dare stop me. I’m in a celebratory mood.”
Dakotah was right, though. I’ve been obsessing over that guy for no good reason. The last time I saw him, he barely talked to me. He ignored my very existence. He lived in another city. And he was straight. So why then? Why couldn’t I get him out of my head? Maybe it was time for me to get laid, since I… Well, I haven’t hooked up with anyone since I met Baz. My heart just wasn't in it.
Wagner called us an Uber, which arrived in less than a minute. Of course, it was too good to be true.
“Justtree,” the driver said in broken English when Wagner opened the passenger door. “Nofor.Tree.”
No four? Just three? Really?
“Oh, come on. It’s this guy’s birthday,” Alain said, pointing at me. “And the club is close by.”
The driver shook his head adamantly. “Nofor.Tree.”
“Just go,” I said, reaching for my phone. “I’ll call myself an Uber and meet you at the club.”
“Don’t be late, as always,” Wagner said as they scrambled into the car.
