Free Diversion 1 - Diversion by Eden Winters Page B

state line to visit a doctor, he seriously doubted any law-abiding citizens with“Georgia on their minds” had to drive all the way to Orlando to fill a script for Tylenol 3.
To appease whomever else might be watching, he continued his trek down the street to a small park visible from the garage. He wandered through, ending up at the garages back wall, scrambling over and onto the first level. Avoiding the stairs—most assuredly the domain of more palmetto bugs—he traveled the rest of the way up in the elevator. Hed love a good workout, but didnt want to share space with rodent-sized insects.
He stepped out of the elevator and kept to the shadows, approaching the Mazda from the passenger side blind spot. Hed raised his hand to bring it smacking down on the trunk, hoping to deliver another lesson—be aware of your surroundings—when a shoe scuffed behind him and he ducked, narrowly missing the blow aimed at his head.
He hit the ground rolling, coming up in a crouch a few feet away, to find Bo lounging against the car trunk, laughing. “Knew youd try something sneaky,” he said, a pleased grin on his face. Sadly, pigeon spatters under his elbow ruined the “man in control” effect.
Lucky growled, dusting himself off as he stood. “Did you get the license of the SUV?” If he cocked his head to the side, the pigeon splats formed a smiley face.
“Sure did. Since it seemed important; Ive already sent it in to Walter.”
On one hand, working with someone capable of rational thought was definitely refreshing; on the other hand, Lucky ran the risk of learning to like the guy. Liking people led to trusting them, which led to his life getting turned upside down. And liking folks you worked with added complications, especially if you planned on walking away and leaving them behind the moment the opportunity presented itself.
Since too much thinking made his head hurt, Lucky pushed the turbulent thoughts away, in favor of something more immediate. “Im hungry. You ready to eat?”
Lunch consisted of drive-through fast food, Lucky wolfing down and barely tasting a greasy burger and fries, washed down by a jumbo Coke. Bo munched a salad and baked potato, sipping from a bottle of water.
Once finished, Lucky belched and tossed his trash into the backseat. Bo wrinkled his nose, daintily folding the bag his meal had come in and checking the plastic salad container. “Oh good, its recyclable. You do recycle, dont you?”
Over the next few hours Lucky found himself fighting boredom, watching cars come and go and tuning out a lecture on greenhouse gasses. When hed about reached the point of shooting himself or his environmentally conscious partner, several car doors slammed, one after the other. Lucky checked his watch, grimacing at the crystal hed scratched by throwing it under the van. “Quittin time. Lets give them a few minutes to clear out and get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Youll get no argument from me. Im starving.”
“Of course you are. You only ate rabbit food for lunch. Oh, by the way, junior man gets cooking duty.” Lucky figured he might be pushing his luck, but you never knew until you tried, right?
“Gladly, if you cook like you do everything else.” Bo mimed swinging a mallet down on an imaginary something hanging in mid-air, snarling out a pretty good Eastwood impersonation, “Cmon, spud, make my day!”
Lucky didnt have a ready comeback, as the creative accusation rang too close to truth. He retaliated by giving old Billy Ray a rest and punching up Cyndi Lauper on his iPod. They exited the garage with the windows rolled down and Lucky screeching to the top of his lungs, “She bop, a he bop…”
“Must you jam every time were moving?” Bo yelled.
“Yes, I must,” Lucky yelled back.
Bo endured the ride to the local Save a Ton Food Mart with fingers stuck in both ears. Once inside the store the real battle began.
“Pork is loaded with cancer-causing chemicals.” Bo snatched a package of thick-sliced