Low Sided by A.J. Downey (best detective novels of all time txt) 📕

was still mistrustful after he tried to strong arm me. First impressions, they were a lasting one.

I used the bathroom, washed my hands again, brushed my teeth, and without anything left to do decided I had better quit stalling and get out there. When I emerged from the bathroom, it was to silence. I peeked around the corner into the living room to find Mace on my couch, alone, a new phone in his hands.

“You got a Wi-Fi password, and what’s your network?” he asked.

“I can’t afford groceries, and you expect me to have Wi-Fi?” I laughed and he grinned.

“Shit,” he muttered, and I chuckled some more, coming into the living room.

“Oh, wow.”

There was a small television hooked up to a video game console on the floor across from the couch. I hadn’t been at an angle to notice it before.

“I rob the free Wi-Fi from the ice cream shop downstairs. They don’t mind,” I told him. “Gets sketchy during business hours with everyone connecting to it, but in the evening after hours, it’s fine.”

“Excelsior exclamation point?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s the network.”

“Password?” he asked.

“Here.”

He handed me the controller and I entered the password and handed it back.

“Cool, thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Here.” He handed me his phone. I blinked at the screen.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Groceries. Order whatever you want or need, stock up, have it delivered.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I can—”

“Raven.” He stopped me with his even tone that brooked no argument. I blinked and held very still, not sure what to make of all of this. “Order whatever you need,” he said gently when I said nothing at all.

“Got anything you want in particular?” I asked softly.

“I’m starving, so whatever is quick.”

“I, uh… it says it takes up to two hours for delivery. I can run downstairs and up the block to the noodle place. They’re cheap and easy.”

He held up the cash that Glassjaw had handed him.

“Take it,” he ordered and again, it brooked no argument.

I handed back his phone and didn’t take it. Not yet anyway.

“Let me grab a two-minute shower and get dressed. I’ll run to the noodle shop, come back here and order groceries while we eat.”

“Efficient. I like it.”

I smiled.

“You don’t have to do all of this, you know,” I said, turning back from the doorway to my bedroom.

“You saved my life,” he said plaintively. “I owe you a fuck of a lot more than just some food.”

“I’m uneasy taking anything from—”

“Me? The club?” he asked.

I swallowed hard. “The latter. You do know you all have a reputation.”

“Yeah, and it’s well earned,” he agreed matter-of-factly. “But you’re not on the receiving end of the bad. You made yourself a friend of the club for what you did. The club takes care of its friends.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means get your shower, sweetheart. It means, I buy you dinner and groceries for the week and we sit down and either play a game or watch some movies until you have to go to work tonight.”

“I don’t work tonight. It’s my night off.”

“Even better.” He smiled, and pain edged his expression.

“You need something?” I asked, and he smiled a little bigger.

“Food,” he said.

I startled a bit.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he said to my retreating back as I gathered clean clothes and my towel and went into the bathroom once more.

I tried to keep my shower brief but the hot water against my back was so sweet, it was hard to resist its siren’s call. A cloud of steam preceded me out of the bathroom and I sighed, toweling my hair and padding barefoot back into the living room. Mace paused whatever he was playing and looked up.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry I took so long.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes,” I said. “Noodle shop is fast.” I sat down on the floor to put my socks on, and he smirked.

“I’m a big boy who’s used to taking care of myself,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked with a slight laugh.

“Means that when you went in to shower,” he held up his phone, “I ordered up the food to be delivered. I just went with the generic stuff.”

“Generic?” I asked.

“Yeah, the shit you actually recognize on the menu – beef round eye number one or whatever. Times two.”

“Oh!” He’d ordered for me too. “You guessed right,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied as there was a knock at my door.

I got up and went over, took the food from the driver as Mace called out, “Thanks, man!” and I shut and locked everything up.

“I’m not used to all of this,” I said with a nervous laugh as I went past him. He caught my hand. I looked down at him and he up at me and there was something in his brown gaze. Something heavy.

“You did a good thing,” he said, and he swallowed hard. Emotion skated behind his gaze and my discomfort eased in the face of it. “You’re still doing it by letting me recover here for a couple days. Let me thank you with a meal or two, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said a little startled when he shook my hand when I didn’t respond right away. His hand was gentle, and warm where it wrapped around mine lightly and it sent a current of… of something through me. Something pleasant. Which was unexpected.

He nodded and let me go. I turned the corner into my little kitchen to fix our soup, my mind a million miles away and racing.

When I returned to the living room, the console was on the menu screen and Mace was looking uncomfortable.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I will be, just need some food in me and maybe some of the good Tylenol.”

“You sure you don’t need something a little more substantial than Tylenol?” I asked and he took his bowl from me.

“Maybe later when I go to bed. That shit knocks me out and I would rather use it sparingly.”

“Makes sense,” I