pretended to be insulted but he really wasn’t. He knew exactly what she meant. His presence could be intimidating. In fact, it better damned well be!
“You are rather—large,” Tori teased, as her eyes scanned his heavily inked arms. “Besides, this…” she indicated the conservative neighborhood with a flick of her finger, “is my world, so it’s my rules, mister.”
Savage laughed at the clever way she had parroted his words back at him, but before he could answer her, she had turned around and was already hiking up the walkway towards the steps leading to Mrs. Moore’s front door. Grinning, he watched the neighbor open her door to her knock and then Tori disappeared inside.
His smile vanished; his eyes swiveled towards Joe Sorelli’s house. What had happened to the butcher, and where was he?
Scanning the street for any prying eyes, he walked towards the bungalow. Approaching the home, he toured its perimeter looking for clues that would lead him to the old man’s whereabouts, but he couldn’t find any.
Like a silent jungle cat, he moved back to his bike on the curb, just in time to see Tori coming out of the house next door. Her jovial mood had disappeared and a frown was marring her pretty face.
“What’s wrong?” he intoned, as she approached.
“She doesn’t really know much. She says she hasn’t seen Joe since last Tuesday, just like she told me yesterday, and the only friends of Joe’s that she knows about are Dirty Dan, and someone named Stella Simon and her son, Roger. Apparently, this Stella owns a spa called Pleasurably Yours near the downtown area.”
Savage nodded. “I know Stella and her deadbeat son and their— spa .”
Tori’s eyebrows shot up in a quizzical fashion. “Spa—as in facials and bikini waxes?”
“More like rub ‘n tugs and happy endings.”
Tori sighed. “Well, Mr. Savage, I guess we’re back in your world now.”
The biker smirked. “Oh yeah, we definitely are.”
Chapter 17
Friday – 10:38 a.m.
Dirty Dan’s Pawn Shop
Tori followed Savage into the shady-looking storefront, the pair having decided to look for Dirty Dan first before paying the spa owners a visit. The claustrophobic, oppressive atmosphere inside the shop immediately hit her like a door slamming in her face. Behind a long counter sat a man of about thirty, wearing jeans and a faded t-shirt with the name of some obscure rock band emblazoned across its front.
“Hi Savage,” the rocker greeted.
“Hey Jesse, where’s your uncle?”
The slacker shrugged his shoulders. “Probably on a gambling binge again, you know him.”
Savage nodded. “Yeah, figures. When was the last time you saw him?”
“Tuesday afternoon.”
“You haven’t seen or heard from him since?”
“Nope, but that’s normal. He’ll probably pop back up by Sunday night, drunk and broke as usual.”
Tori stepped forward. “Have you seen Joe Sorelli recently? I understand he’s your uncle’s friend.”
The rocker’s eyes narrowed. He studied her, as if he suddenly realized there was another person there. “Who wants to know?” he muttered.
“My grandmother is a friend of Joe’s and she hasn’t heard from him for a few days now, since Tuesday actually, just like your uncle. Do you know where we might find Joe?”
“Nope,” he responded coldly. He turned back to the biker. “If I see either of them, Savage, I’ll tell them to call you.”
”Do that, thanks.”
With a curt goodbye nod, Savage headed for the door, followed closely behind by Tori.
“Do you think it’s a coincidence that he and Joe both disappeared on the same day?” Tori mused, as they walked towards the Harley.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Do you think they’re together?”
“Could be, but then again, Dirty Dan is a degenerate gambler. He’s pulled this disappearing act before, showing up a week later, dead broke and dead drunk, just like Jesse said.”
“What about Joe Sorelli? Is he the same
“You are rather—large,” Tori teased, as her eyes scanned his heavily inked arms. “Besides, this…” she indicated the conservative neighborhood with a flick of her finger, “is my world, so it’s my rules, mister.”
Savage laughed at the clever way she had parroted his words back at him, but before he could answer her, she had turned around and was already hiking up the walkway towards the steps leading to Mrs. Moore’s front door. Grinning, he watched the neighbor open her door to her knock and then Tori disappeared inside.
His smile vanished; his eyes swiveled towards Joe Sorelli’s house. What had happened to the butcher, and where was he?
Scanning the street for any prying eyes, he walked towards the bungalow. Approaching the home, he toured its perimeter looking for clues that would lead him to the old man’s whereabouts, but he couldn’t find any.
Like a silent jungle cat, he moved back to his bike on the curb, just in time to see Tori coming out of the house next door. Her jovial mood had disappeared and a frown was marring her pretty face.
“What’s wrong?” he intoned, as she approached.
“She doesn’t really know much. She says she hasn’t seen Joe since last Tuesday, just like she told me yesterday, and the only friends of Joe’s that she knows about are Dirty Dan, and someone named Stella Simon and her son, Roger. Apparently, this Stella owns a spa called Pleasurably Yours near the downtown area.”
Savage nodded. “I know Stella and her deadbeat son and their— spa .”
Tori’s eyebrows shot up in a quizzical fashion. “Spa—as in facials and bikini waxes?”
“More like rub ‘n tugs and happy endings.”
Tori sighed. “Well, Mr. Savage, I guess we’re back in your world now.”
The biker smirked. “Oh yeah, we definitely are.”
Chapter 17
Friday – 10:38 a.m.
Dirty Dan’s Pawn Shop
Tori followed Savage into the shady-looking storefront, the pair having decided to look for Dirty Dan first before paying the spa owners a visit. The claustrophobic, oppressive atmosphere inside the shop immediately hit her like a door slamming in her face. Behind a long counter sat a man of about thirty, wearing jeans and a faded t-shirt with the name of some obscure rock band emblazoned across its front.
“Hi Savage,” the rocker greeted.
“Hey Jesse, where’s your uncle?”
The slacker shrugged his shoulders. “Probably on a gambling binge again, you know him.”
Savage nodded. “Yeah, figures. When was the last time you saw him?”
“Tuesday afternoon.”
“You haven’t seen or heard from him since?”
“Nope, but that’s normal. He’ll probably pop back up by Sunday night, drunk and broke as usual.”
Tori stepped forward. “Have you seen Joe Sorelli recently? I understand he’s your uncle’s friend.”
The rocker’s eyes narrowed. He studied her, as if he suddenly realized there was another person there. “Who wants to know?” he muttered.
“My grandmother is a friend of Joe’s and she hasn’t heard from him for a few days now, since Tuesday actually, just like your uncle. Do you know where we might find Joe?”
“Nope,” he responded coldly. He turned back to the biker. “If I see either of them, Savage, I’ll tell them to call you.”
”Do that, thanks.”
With a curt goodbye nod, Savage headed for the door, followed closely behind by Tori.
“Do you think it’s a coincidence that he and Joe both disappeared on the same day?” Tori mused, as they walked towards the Harley.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Do you think they’re together?”
“Could be, but then again, Dirty Dan is a degenerate gambler. He’s pulled this disappearing act before, showing up a week later, dead broke and dead drunk, just like Jesse said.”
“What about Joe Sorelli? Is he the same
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