I’m back in Rahkim’s lair sooner than I want to be. He’s sitting in his office smoking some oversized cigar. The air reeks of bad perfume and hairspray. I think I smell disinfectant as well, and I’m sure I don’t want to know where it’s coming from.
“What’s up?” I try to have some energy for this, but in truth, I’m physically wasted.
“Hey Jackson,” Rahkim barely looks up. “I thought I should call you.”
He motions to one of his thugs who heads into the other room. After a moment of silence, the thug returns holding Daisy by one of her thin, slender arms.
She is squirming to get free until she sees me. Her eyes freeze then, just for a second, and then she stops completely, her head down.
“Your wife..”
“Ex-wife.”
“Right. Whatever. Anyway, Daisy here came by looking to score,” Rahkim says with little emotion.
I shoot her a look of anger, but it’s tinged with pity. “I assumed with our history Jackson, the proper thing to do was give you a call. Let you handle it.”
Wonderful. Now I’m in Rahkim’s debt again, and for what? An ex-wife who just can’t help herself?
“Thank you Rahkim.” Daisy is now by my side. I grab her to go before Rahkims’ voice stops me.
“One more thing Jackson. You know a Sparrow Sprite?”
I turn back to him quickly.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Tommy Lee’s goons were asking around about her. A bird told me you might know something.”
I stare at Rahkim for a few seconds trying to see what cards he’s holding. I take a chance.
“Nope. Can’t say I know her. Thanks for taking care of Daisy. Again.”
He nods, and I get the hell out of there, my head screaming with how deep this is getting.