Chapter 17

Releasing the clutch, Will pulls away from the curb and hits the button to raise the windows. Tinted glass rises around them, blocking out the street life. “You got a name?” Will asks as he pushes the car through the gears, heading for a high speed. “And buckle up.”

“Yes, officer.”

Will glances at the guy sharply. Did he know? Nothing in the guy’s face gives it away, so Will writes it off as an innocent comment, a joke.

As the hustler cinches the seat belt into place, he asks, “You have a name you want me to use? Or just my own?”

Teabag,that voice in Will’s head whispers, but he shakes it away. No. Tea is gone. Now that the car has hit a decent speed, Will cranks the radio back up again and shouts to be heard over the music. “Your own.”

“Corey. I hate to bring this up, but do you want to hear my price list? Or do you have something specific in mind?”