BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (97)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. 8.
  13. 9.
  14. 10.
  15. 11.
  16. 12.
  17. 13.
  18. 14.
  19. 15.
  20. 16.
  21. 17.
  22. 18.
  23. 19.
  24. SIX MONTHS LATER
  25. 20.
  26. 21.
  27. 22.
  28. 23.
  29. 24.
  30. 25.
  31. 26.
  32. 27.
  33. 28.
  34. 29.
  35. 30.
  36. 31.
  37. 32.
  38. 33.
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  85. 80.
  86. 81.
  87. 82.
  88. 83.
  89. 84.
  90. 85.
  91. 86.
  92. 87.
  93. SIX MORE MONTHS LATER
  94. 88.
  95. 89.
  96. Discover More
  97. About the Author

The rage rises again. He feels the Glock under his trench coat. The rage starts to pound, generating heat and itch beneath the trench coat, beating against the inside of his skull.

Well, at least now there’s no guessing about what he’s got to do. He’s got to get rid of the kid. ’Cause looking around Joey’s phone even a little means seeing way too much.

Joey turns and is about to ask the barista—skinny Puerto Rican bitch about twenty-five—if she happened to see a red-haired kid sitting at the counter over there. Joey is pulling Zack’s phone out to show the barista a picture when someone steps in front of him to ask the barista something.

“Hey, did you happen to see a curly red-haired kid here about twenty minutes ago?”

The exact question Joey was about to ask.

Joey drops back a step. Turns his face away. Turns back just enough to see who’s asking the barista.

A short little guy.

Who Joey recognizes immediately from the pictures on Zack’s phone. The little runt. The best friend.

Joey drops back another few steps. Makes himself a little more invisible, as he is expert at doing.

The barista smiles. “Yeah, I know who you mean. He was definitely here,” she says, still smiling, “but he left a while ago.”

“Damn,” says the short guy. “Okay.”

And Joey sees the short guy take out his cell phone and begin pressing buttons.

Joey quickly shuts off the ringer on Zack’s phone and slips it into his pocket. Moves away a little more.

He sees the short guy texting something on his phone.

Joey feels the buzz of the text arriving in his pocket.

He doesn’t even have to look. He knows the gist of what it says:

Hey Zack, Steve here. I’m at GreenGirl but they said you left. Where are you man? Lmk.

The short guy puts away his phone and leaves the coffee shop.

Joey is right behind him.

5.

5.

Zack stops. Tries to gather his thoughts.

He sits down on a bench.

The assassin has his phone. Maybe is looking through it thoroughly.

So Zack starts to look more closely through the guy’s phone.

It’s such a contrast to his own. His own phone filled with fun, dumb messages, jokes, rendezvous, all the silliness of his life. He’d hate to face his maker and give an accounting of his life with only his phone to show.

But this phone has nothing on it. Those pictures. A few terse texts.