Possession (Fallen Angels #5)(24)
Author: J.R. Ward

No Warren County muni services on the roads in and out of these three hundred acres. Frankly, the family was lucky to have city water and cable.

As a familiar snoring lit off from the couch, he poured himself mugful number three. Fucking Rolly. What a pain in the ass.

“You need to get a job,” he barked when he finally put his mug in the sink.

It was like having a sixteen-year-old in the house. The good news was that on a regular basis the guy somehow found some chippie to pick up the slack. The relationships never lasted longer than a couple of months, but at least they gave Duke a break.

Would miracles please never cease.

In truth, he really needed to throw the guy out. But Rolly had him over a barrel: Old friends, like bad habits, died hard—so there was nothing he could do. Well, nothing except pray that soon, very soon, on one of the bastard’s pot buys, or a bar crawl, or for shit’s sake a trip to a Frito-Lay aisle in the local Qwikie Mart, some new version of tits-’n’-ass looked at that handsome baby face and fwelll in wuuuuuuuuvvvve.

As nauseating as that was.

Matter of fact, rumor had it there was a female on the horizon at this very moment—would that she would get her ass in gear. He was so ready to reduce the secondhand emissions in his house and get his sofa back.

Ten minutes later, he was going out the open doorway. The temperature of the “living room,” such as it was, had dropped fifteen degrees and was still falling—and Rolly hadn’t even noticed. Kinda. The guy had pulled the back cushions over his body and was doing a fetal.

Duke was of half a mind to just leave shit open, but he didn’t relish the idea of coming home to a pothead Popsicle who had to be nursed out of pneumonia.

No locking things up behind him. He didn’t have anything to steal, and he wasn’t giving Rolly a key in the event that someday he booted the guy for good.

This week he was only working twelve to five for the county, because it was a little early for the real spring cleanup and a little late for any snow removal. Soon enough, though, the backbreaking would start, and he was ready for it—the Caldwell city parks needed upkeep, and he was exactly the kind of thug to get into the brambles for ripping and tearing.

So much more satisfying than babysitting the wait line at the Iron Mask.

Getting into his truck, he started the engine, hit the gas and took the back roads to what the crews called “the Shed.” The facility was located on twenty-five acres waaaaaay outside of town—so his commute, even to an eight-hour shift that started in the morning, was just him and his truck and the farmland roads. Period. The only time he stopped was for deer crossings.

As he drove along, his eyes didn’t stray from the pavement ahead. There was no looking around and measuring the weather, or the progress of spring, or diddling with some radio station or another.

There was, however, something on his mind.

That woman from the night before.

He’d still been thinking about her as the sun had come up. Hard to explain why she’d stuck with him—yeah, sure, she was good-looking, but on a regular basis he saw that—hell, he saw a lot more, given the undress code at the club. But something about her was different … important, even.

Man, he didn’t like the whole thing. Not the fact that she was like a ghost who wouldn’t stop haunting him, or his ridiculous, overblown reaction to her—but especially the reason she’d been to that café, the man who she’d gone to see.

Fucking G.B. That bastard—

As his phone went off, he dug it out of his jacket and didn’t bother checking to see who it was. “Yeah.”

“Duncan?”

Oh, for f**k’s sake. No one called him that—and what the hell was that psychic doing on his phone. “Yeah.”

“I had to call you.”

“Yeah.” Not a question; he didn’t want to encourage her—and frankly, this was a good reminder that he really needed to quit going to see her.

“I had a dream about you last night.”

Not interested, honey—although he didn’t think it was a sexual thing. He’d never gotten that vibe from her. “Yeah, so.”

“I see a crisis coming. A crossroads.” The urgency in her voice made him roll his eyes. “This is unlike … anything I’ve ever been shown before.”

At that moment, he came up to one of only three traffic lights on his route into work. It was glowing orange.

“Duncan, I see a brunette—she’s the nexus around which this spins; she’s the focal point. And this will change everything.”

He punched the gas, speeding through the four-way intersection. Just as he went under the light, it turned red.

“Thanks for calling,” he muttered. “I’ll be sure to date blondes and redheads, how ’bout that.”

“Duncan, you’ve got to listen to me. The brunette … she’s a game changer for you, and the consequences are dire, Duncan. Please—”

“I gotta go, I’m pulling into work.” Or rather, he would be about five minutes from now. “Thanks.”

“You must heed this. If you don’t engage with her, there’s a possibility it can all be avoided—”

“Bye.”

“Duncan. What I saw was a warning. The consequences are going to hurt you—”

Duke hung up on her—and turned his ringer off.

So not doing that. No more engaging with that fruitcake. And while he was at it, no more thinking about the woman or … the past.

Or the future.

Man, he was so done with the whole life thing, he really was…

As the thought occurred to him, he eyed the tree line and wondered what it would feel like to unclip his seat belt, turn the wheel and run his truck directly into a thick oak, just hit the accelerator and slam himself right into oblivion.

Fucking air bags. He’d probably end up with nothing more than a pillow in his face and a monster deductible bill to fix shit.

About five miles later, he took a right onto the two-lane road that led in and out of the Shed, and when he got to the gate in the chain-link fencing, he stopped and showed his ID. His supervisor had given him his marching orders the day before, so he proceeded to the parking lot, dumped his truck, and picked up the keys to a county version of same at the front office. For the next five hours, he was going to scout and prioritize park projects. It was the kind of thing that someone higher up should be doing—but his boss preferred hanging out in a climate-controlled environment, kicking back and watching sports commentary on his iPad.