Chapter 111

But it’s not his mama and it’s not Ryan, it’s Bobby’s low voice that breathes into his ear. “Dante, hey man. What’s up?”

Like they’re old friends or something. Like he didn’t tell the guy not to call him before Sunday. “Bobby,” Dante sighs. “I thought I told you—”

“I know, I know,” Bobby concedes. He sounds older than his almost-thirty years, he sounds downright ancient, tired and worn out and run down. “Here’s the deal, man, okay? I can’t wait ‘til next week, I need someone in the shop now. How about you come on by today and—”