As expected, Nixon was waiting for us at his house.
"Aw, Rocky, get in a fight?" Tex teased while Nixon wiped the blood from his chin and flipped us off.
"Tell me you guys were there to at least cover my sorry ass."
"Chase was covering." Tex pointed at me.
"Ah." Nixon met my gaze. "And were you covering me or Frank?"
"Depends." I sneered. "Did you make her cry and get her to call you her boyfriend all within the span of like five minutes?"
"Be a bitch later." Nixon rolled his eyes and winced as he wiped beneath his nose. "We have shit to wade through."
"My favorite thing." Tex pulled out a chair. "Shit wading."
Nixon placed his gun on the table and leaned back in his chair. "He's gonna tell her."
"How do you figure?" I toyed with the wine glass Tex had set in front of me and waited for the liquid to follow.
"He wants a meeting." Nixon threw the bloody rag onto the table and held up his glass to Tex. "At least, that's what the note said that he shoved into my pocket after he hit me in the face."
"Got you good too." I pointed with a smirk. "Think you'll need stitches?"
"The note?" Tex held out his hand.
Nixon slid it across the table.
Tex picked it up while I poured myself a glass of wine and waited.
"Well, that sounds like a good time." He handed me the note.
It didn't say much, just a time and location. "We'll need our men to come with us." I set the note down and took a large gulp of wine. "Lots of them, just in case."
"Yeah." Nixon licked his lips and stared into his glass. "I'll make the call… you guys should go to bed, actually." His eyes found mine.
Damn it.
"You wanna run one more patrol by—"
"Yeah, yeah." I waved him off. "I'll just chug the rest of this wine then drive over to campus and stare at your girlfriend's window. Kill me now."
"Don't run into any squirrels, sunshine." Tex laughed.
I shook my head and stood. "You know, you shouldn't let me window shop. Just makes me want to max out the credit card, Nixon."
"Max it out, see if I don't cut out your liver."
"I think he's gotten more graphic with age, Chase? Any thoughts? Added commentary?"
"Nah," I grabbed my gun. "I think I'm done for tonight."
Nixon glared in my direction. I didn't blame him. I was being an ass. He was asking me to do my job, the job I'd always done.