Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)

There’s no sign of Stix or anybody else for that matter. So, I check the time, even though I know for a fucking fact that it’s easily mid-afternoon. I take a seat on an old coffee table left here over the years, and I wait. Every nerve in my body tells me he isn’t gonna show, but I’m a thorough motherfucker, and I don’t wanna take the chance of leaving if Stix might show up.

Another hour of my day goes by, and there’s no sign of the kid. However, as I’m about to call it a day, an older woman with a guide dog steps out from between a couple buildings. I’m sure, to anyone else driving by, if anyone was to drive by, that is, she doesn’t seem off. To me, she seems highly out of fucking place, considering this is a homeless area, and the homeless, in general, don’t get guide dogs.

I watch her for a while out of sheer curiosity. I doubt I’m wrong, but you never know. It’s been known to happen.

Once.

Okay, three times.

She feeds some strays that come out of hiding, probably whenever they see humans, but not her dog. She straightens her pants like she can’t stand to be in this dirty ass outfit she’s wearing. Her head turns to her left then to her right before she talks to her wrist.

Bam.

Her stride is slightly faster than someone who might be blind when she heads back to where she came from. About a minute later, a car comes screeching out, and from behind the steering wheel, I see her remove the wig.

Him.

He removes the wig.

“The fuck?”

As I fly down the stairs, I wanna kick myself for not staking this place out from the Chevelle.

By the time I get to the car, start her up, and head in the general direction of my mystery man, it’s too late. He’s gone.

“Dammit.” I bang the steering wheel and try to think.

The trip over here wasn’t the biggest waste of my time, at least. While I don’t know much more than I did when I arrived, my gut tells me someone has the kid, and they were expecting me to come look for him.

As my heart rate begins to pick up, I reach for my lucky cig. When I pull it out, I tap it on the dash a few times. I stick it in between my lips and pull out the lighter I keep in the ash tray. I go to light it, but then I stop. Because motherfucker.

Mother.

Fucker.

How did I let this shit happen? Why am I still dependent on a fucking cigarette for some piece of mind?

I push the lighter back into its hole and toss the cig onto the backseat, unlit. I pull my phone from my pocket and call Green.

“Hola.”

“Hey, it’s Stiles.”

“Really, I didn’t know that.” Sarcastic little… “Smartass. Look, the kid’s gone.” No reason to put off the inevitable.

“What do you mean? Gone.”

“I mean fucking gone, Green.” Jesus.

“Again? Stiles—”

“I know, I know. And I don’t have a good feeling about this shit. We need to make something happen. Fast. Have you touched base with,” I shudder to even say the fucking name, “Anonymous?”

“I did. And I think something’s getting ready to go down.”

“What’s the deal?”

“I was told to meet his contact at some place called Dusk ’til Dawn tonight. And that I’d get my instructions then.”

“You don’t know who the contact is? Was it Walker?”

“No idea. He said I’d know. I have a sneaking suspicion this is some kind of test for me.”

“Okay.” I breathe out.

D to D isn’t exactly what I’d call a family place, if you know what I mean. More like a keep secrets from your family kind of place. A cheaters club, if you will.

“Guess we’re having ourselves a date night.”

Yay.





X X X


As the sun sets, I destroy the bug Green and I discovered on Frodo and do another sweep of the apartment, including any and all electronics, to make sure nothing else has been compromised.

It’s clean.

Later, I finalize some details with her via phone. She needs to get herself set up in a hotel while she figures shit out with the apartment, and I needed to take the shower I missed this morning when my day went to shit.

Shittier than normal, that is.

We have a couple hours or so before we need to be at D to D. There’s not much else I can do for Stix right now but cross my fucking fingers that he’s still alive.

“If whomever I’m meeting sees you─” Green warns me not to be conspicuous tonight.

Like I’m gonna be conspicuous. Ha.

“I know, I know.”

“And don’t─”

“Kick the guy’s ass before we get a confession. I know, Green. I’ve been doing this a whole hell of a lot longer than you, if you remember correctly.”

“I just want to make sure we actually get this guy, Stiles. If─”

“Hold on.”

A knock at the door catches me off guard. When I check the curtain to see who’s paying me a visit in the middle of this fuckery, I’m taken aback.

That shit doesn’t happen, often.

“I gotta go, Green.”

“Okay, let me know when you’re ready.”

“Will do.” I end the call.

Relax.

And open the door.

“The fuck, Dad?”

“About time you answered the door.”

He’s not drunk, but he’s been drinking. I’m speechless, for lack of a better word.

At first, he doesn’t move or speak other than the growl he just shot at me. He just stands in my doorway.

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