You Do What You Have To - 9

 

 

Darren nodded. "I need to find Micky."

 

"Talk about off topic. Not really. We'd all like to find the young man. Too bad you didn't get more than a first name."

 

"Tell me about it. God damn it!"

 

"Did he say anything at all about himself during your…dalliance?"

 

He snorted. "You are so polite. Let me think." He replayed everything that had happened from the moment he'd seen Micky at the bar. He'd noticed him because he’d stood out, with that strange shade of red-brown hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. "We talked a bit while watching guys on the dance floor, then we went to the bar." He drummed his fingers on the sheets. "Waiter. Yeah. He said he worked as a waiter, but not where, although he did say it was a nice place, if not 'classy', as he put it."

 

"Damn. There must be a million restaurants in the city," Olivia muttered. "Still, it's a start, presuming he gave you his real name."

 

"I'm pretty sure he did. He never hesitated to answer when I used it, the way most amateurs would if they didn't want to reveal who they really were."

 

"Okay, that helps, if he always goes by that. Micky is probably a nickname for Michael so it's fifty-fifty if he's called Micky at work."

 

"True. For now though"—he gave her a stern look—"you have to get me clothes. Okay?"

 

"Darren." She sighed. "Okay. Against my better judgment, and because knowing you, if I don't, you'll leave just the way you are, in your briefs, I'll do my best."

 

Olivia returned a few minutes later. "No shoes yet," she commented, laying the clothes on the bed. Eying Darren's head wound, she said, "You're going to stick out like a sore thumb."

 

"So I get a hat on my way home."

 

"By rights I should shackle you to the bed to keep you here for at least another day."

 

"Over my dead body," Darren muttered.

 

"It might be, if you reopen the wound because you do something stupid. However"—Olivia shook her head—"knowing the kind of man you are, that idea isn't going to stop you, so at least try to take things easy."

 

Moving carefully, Darren put on his jeans under Olivia's disapproving stare. Thankfully the shirt fit well enough to work. When he was dressed, he sat again, looking up at her. "Would you mind giving me a ride back to my place?"

 

"I presume you mean your real home, not the house."

 

"Yeah. I think we can get rid of the house now, since it's obvious it's been compromised. I'd sure as hell love to know how the shooter found me there."

 

"Best guess, he was at the bar, even though you didn't spot him."

 

"Probably, but I was watching for a tail. I always do."

 

"I'll bet you didn't scan for a tracker, given that you had—company."

 

"I did, actually. I told Micky to wait in the bar for a couple of minutes, which gave me time to do that." Darren chuckled. "From the look on his face, he was certain I was going to run out on him, but he didn't argue."