Chapter 21

He hurries down the length of the counter, coming out at the store entrance just as the two guys approach. “Excuse me, sir?” he asks, speaking to the taller guy. He keeps his gaze high, off the sweats, and silently prays, Please.

The guy stops, an amused smirk on his handsome face. “Yo, me?”

His friend comes up beside him and glares at Bill. “Jamal, who the fuck’s this?”

“Chill, man,” Jamal murmurs, holding out his arm as if trying to keep his friend back. To Bill, he says, “What you want with me?”

Oh, God, you don’t even know.The thought flutters through Bill’s head and is gone, but the images that trail in its wake set his heart stuttering. “Listen, ah…Jamal. One of my associates thinks she saw—”

“Bullshit!” the friend cries, surging forward like a baying hound. Only Jamal’s arm blocking his chest keeps him back. “That bitch is profiling. She ain’t seen shit.”

“Tyrece,” Jamal warns, his gaze never leaving Bill’s. “Cool it.”