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Chapter 23

One face in the sea of humanity was not happy. Narrowed eyes and a set jaw glared out at him from the crowd. Chris, Vin thought, a brick of ice taking up residence within his gut. Not at him, Vin realized; the deadly gaze was directed at Beau, who drove the pickup with jaw-clenching concentration. Vin pulled out a handful of throws and tossed them, drawing attention to himself. He whipped his phone out of his pocket, momentarily cursing his practically-painted-on shorts and as the parade watchers cheered and screamed, he snapped several pictures, the flash going off bright against the evening air.

Chris tore his vengeful glare from the pick-up’s cab, distracted by the flash, in time to see Vin waggle the phone in his direction, beaming a wide, evil smirk. Chris snarled and flicked Vin his middle finger.