“Bottom of the black leather box. Got it.”
Sinner’s hand reached out and took his. “No. Not the bottom of the black leather box…the bottom of the box that the black leather box is in.” He grimaced slightly and puffed hard. “Don’t let him catch you.”
“He won’t.” He stood from the bed and patted Sinner’s good shoulder. “He’s about piss-drunk already anyway.”
“That don’t mean nothing with Simon.” Sinner groaned and punched the pillow behind his head to fluff it. “The man is what they call a functioning alcoholic. He thinks straighter with booze than he ever could without it.” His gaze narrowed on Stinky. “Believe it.”
“Gotcha.” Stinky stood at his full height and glanced at the door. “As soon as I have them, I’ll be back.”
Sinner shook his head. “I’m too laid up. Just hide them.”
Stinky stepped out of the room and walked back down the hall. He spotted Simon slumped in the overstuffed leather chair, the bottle hanging precariously from his fingers.
He stepped to the door leading to the garage and into the gloom. He found the crates lined up against the wall and quickly spotted the black leather box. He flipped it open and sifted through the peeping tom shots and a stack of nude selfies. He wasn’t impressed.
Shutting the box, he quickly pulled it up and set it aside. He dug through the remnants of other people’s lives and just caught the corner of a zip lock baggie. He pulled it out and smiled to himself. He placed everything back in its proper place, tucked the bag full of pills into his shirt, and slipped them into his waistband.
As Stinky stepped back into the dining room, Simon was leaning against the wall, staring at him. “Whatcha doing there, Stink?”
Stinky stiffened and nodded back to the garage. “I was looking to see if there were any more bottles of vodka.”
Simon raised a brow. “What for?”
Stinky sighed animatedly and placed his open hands on the table. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “If we don’t keep Sinner’s wounds cleaned out, he could turn septic.”
Simon raised both brows at him. “What does that mean?”
“Ever hear of gangrene?” He watched Simon nod slightly. “It’s like that, but it’s basically an infection in the blood rather than the tissues. It can carry all through his body. Kill him from the inside out.”
Simon nodded. “Would antibiotic help prevent that?”
Stinky stiffened, standing straight. “It wouldn’t hurt. Do you know where there is any?”
Simon nodded slowly. “Those empty houses? There were a couple of different types in there.”
Stinky’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t grab them when you cleaned them out?”
Simon snorted a laugh. “What the hell would I need those for? I ain’t got the clap.” He pulled a dining room chair out and fell into it. He kicked his feet up and onto the table top. “Doesn’t look like there’s much a chance of me catching it again neither, does it?”
Stinky sighed and peered out the window. “Do you remember which houses?”
Simon shook his head. “Nope. I went through all of them, though.” He pulled his bottle and unscrewed the cap. “I know they’re out there. You just have to find ‘em.” He took a long pull, his eyes never leaving Stinky.
Stinky nodded to himself, his eyes peering out the wide window. “Maybe Shooter will go with me…cover my back while I search.”
Simon shrugged. “Maybe he will.”
Stinky moved to walk past him and Simon dropped his feet and reached forward, grabbing Stinky by the wrist. Stinky balked but Simon jerked him closer.
Their eyes locked as Simon reached up and grabbed Stinky by the waistband and pulled his bag of pills out from under his shirt. “But these? These are mine.”
He gave Stinky an evil smile as he tucked them into his vest pocket. “Them boxes out there? That’s all MY shit. You don’t go digging through them thinking you can just help yourself.”
“They’re not for me. Sinner needs—”
“Fuck Sinner!” Simon yelled, coming to his feet. “These are mine.” He pushed Stinky back and away from him.
Stinky shook his head, his mouth forming a tight line. “Some leader you are.”
“You questioning my authority, Stinkmeister?”
Stinky shook his head. “No.”
“Good.” He pushed away from him and stepped toward the garage door. “And stay the hell away from my ladies. Them pictures are mine, too.”
Chapter 6
Hatcher stacked his boxes in what he planned to make his new office. He could see through the glass separating the office from the lobby and people continued to carry dry goods in the front then out the back to the storage buildings.
“Getting settled?” Vicky asked, leaning against his door.
Hatcher rubbed at his temples and shook his head. “I need more of your headache stuff.”
She tossed him the bottle and he quickly fished some out. “You look like shit, baby brother.”
“Thanks. I worked really hard to get this look.” He tossed the pills back and took a pull from a water bottle. He sat down behind the desk and stared up at her. “I’m forgetting something, I know I am.”
“You’re allowing yourself to get overwhelmed.” She stepped into the office and sat on the corner of the desk. “I warned you about trying to take on all of the responsibilities around here. You can’t micromanage everything.”
He sat back and nodded. “I need to tell you something.”
Buck knocked on the open door and stepped inside. “You got a minute?” He glanced at Vicky then back to Hatcher. “Bad timing?”
“No, come in, Buck.” Hatcher sat forward and waved him in. He glanced at Vicky, “We can talk later.”
“She doesn’t need to leave.” Buck stepped inside the office and glanced around nervously. “I just…I wanted to ask you if…” He trailed off, the words not coming.
“Just spit it out. We’ll piece it together later.” Hatcher joked.
Buck nodded and stood up straight. “Since you’re the closest thing to family that me and
