I took a bite and headed back out. There were two black cars waiting there, the limo and a shorter town car. The chocolate was delightfully melty. Just right. Cincy was standing next to the town car with Marine and they were watching me.
As I passed a trashcan, Cincy spoke up. “No food in the cars.”
“Are you fucking around here, I just bought—”
“No. Food.” She raised her eyebrows very bitchily.
I looked at Marine. “You know I’m not even getting paid for this.” I threw the pastry in the trash against my wishes and made for the car.
“You know, you were way cooler when you were naked, Cincy.”
I got in in a huff and crossed my arms until Marine finished talking to the crazy prostitute executive assistant. She got in the car beside me and I gave a harrumph and looked the other way.
“I’ll buy you dinner, okay?”
“Just dinner?”
“And desert.”
I nodded and unfolded my arms. “Deal. So where’re we going?”
“A warehouse.”
Well, if I had a deathly allergy to specific details, she was definitely looking out for me. I decided it didn’t matter in the end.
Our trip to the police station was already on the news streams. A dozen local streamers getting picked up by the main feeds, hoping to turn that into private subscriptions. The cameras showed an absolute swarm of people badgering every policeman they could get close to for answers. It was a smooth ride, comfortable but without pastry. Marine had gone quiet and her face was back to that look of concern it shifted to any time her mind had a break.
“You want to talk about it?”
She looked over at me, a soft, sad smile on her lips. “Nah. Not yet. Sorry.” She spun her finger around, keeping it where only I could see. “Not for them.”
It took me a moment to realize those sentences were separated by the motion for a slightly deeper reason. She could have meant she didn’t want the potential people watching to know, but I thought that didn’t quite capture it. Maybe I was reading too deep but she’d acted like I’d never seen her act all day. It was an act that took a lot out of her. As much as she kept herself on their level, she didn’t feel comfortable. Or maybe she did and I was an idiot.
We pulled up in front of a warehouse just outside the district Marine and I lived in. It was part of an old truck lot that’d never been in a nice enough part of the city to be bought up, so it stayed industrial warehousing. There were maybe twenty buildings spread across the yard, thin metal walls and ranging from the size of airplane hangars to small shops. We’d landed in front of one that was, well, warehouse size. A storage warehouse. The door popped open and we stepped out.
I very nearly shit myself seeing the guy who was standing there waiting for us. He wore an open cotton button-up shirt and dirty jeans. He was maybe in his mid-forties and covered with tattoos. I mean covered. No hair, no eyebrows, nothing. His arms were both prosthetics, no skin on them and he had a clear flexible polymer window over his sternum. I could see his lungs and heart working beneath it and I felt deeply uncomfortable. He looked at me with untrusting eyes until Marine stepped out of the other side of the car.
He threw his hands up. “Marine! Salutations!”
Salutations? Well, okay.
“Absolutely wonderful to have you come for a visit. It has simply been too long!”
The way he talked, a working-class sort of accent, sounded just ridiculous coupled with the over-polite speech.
He pulled her hand up and kissed the back of it when she came around to our side of the car. Then he turned to look at me.
“I fear I’ve not had the pleasure of acquainting myself with your friend.”
I offered my hand. “Laze. Delighted.”
He took my hand firmly, which suddenly reminded me that I would likely be killed if I mocked him in an obvious way.
“A polite one,” he said, looking at Marine but still gripping my hand. “I like that. Is he taken?”
Oh no. This… I misread the situation. Not good.
“Not as such.” Marine was not helping.
The man looked back at me and smiled coyly. “Well, Laze. I shall be delighted as well. Very. My name is The Earle and the pleasure is all mine. Those who I find agreeable can simply call me Earle.” He pulled my hand up and kissed the back of it. His lips were… oh god… so wet. Just… just so wet. Like he’d brushed them with melted butter or something.
“We have business, Earle.”
Marine had saved me. She’d put me in the situation, but she saved me. So I hated her, but I loved her. But still a little bit of hate.
“Right you are, and business must always come before pleasure.” He let my hand go and motioned us toward the door of the warehouse. “This way, if you please.”
We followed him in. The warehouse was well-organized, most of the boxes marked inconspicuously with meaningless numbers and letters. Meaningless to me, anyway.
“Graver was kind enough to contact me ahead of time, informing me what it was you would likely be wanting.”
“I doubt he could have mistaken my intentions.”
“My thoughts as well. And so I’ve prepared it for you. Though, for obvious reasons, I will have to ask that you suffer
