Free Tracers by J. J. Howard Page A

seemed to consider the question for a few seconds before answering. “I started getting into tracing in my last year of high school. I was supposed to go to community college, but really I just hated school. I was never any good at it. This was the first thing I was, like, good at—you know? Anyway, I knew this guy from my gym. He went to New York and got a job as a personal trainer, made huge money right out of the gate. Seemed like I should try my luck. I just wanted something . . . more, I guess.”
    â€œWell, you’re doing pretty well for yourself,” Cam told him. “What do you guys
do
for a living, anyway? Can’t live off parkour.”
    Jax gave him a strange look. “You might be surprised.” He got up and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a bone for each dog.
    Cam watched him, thinking. It was obvious that the group did more than train together. But he knew he’d have to earn their trust before they told him their secrets. Especially if their business involved anything illegal.
    Snapping back into the moment, Cam realized Jax was still talking to him. “Dude, you should have seen me the first couple months. Damn near starved to death.” Another of the dogs jumped up beside Jax and he rubbed its head. “Good boy,” he told the dog.
    â€œYou two wanna be alone?” Tate asked Jax.
    â€œYou’re just jealous,” Jax said. “When’s the pizza coming?”
    â€œThirty minutes or less, just like always, moron.”
    They were interrupted as Dylan and Nikki came through the door. She was holding two paper grocery bags over her head, away from the dogs that crowded around her. Cam jumped up and took one of the bags from her and set it on the counter.
    â€œWhat’d you bring us?” Jax asked her.
    â€œFood.”
    â€œI mean, like, specifically?”
    Nikki rolled her eyes as she put the remaining bag down on the table that separated the living area from the kitchen. “I
was
being specific. There’s never any
food
in your food, so I brought you something with actual nutrition.” She pulled out a plastic tray of veggies and waved it around like a flag. “See?”
    Jax groaned. “I told you we should have ordered wings too.”
    Sighing, Nikki put the tray down on the kitchen counter. “Years from now, when your arteries are all clogged up, let it be remembered that I tried to save you.”
    Jax picked her up and twirled her around. “Ha! We’re living fast here, baby. We don’t worry about no stinking arteries.”
    â€œPut me down, you idiot!” Nikki demanded, and Jax complied. “Living fast? You know how that saying ends, right?”
    â€œFirst she brings
vegetables,
then she brings the doom and gloom. Remind me again why you guys always want my sister around?” Dylan came up behind Jax and Nikki, used the counter to force the cap off his bottle of beer, pulled Nikki against him, and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
    â€œJerks,” she muttered, but she was smiling.
    â€œGame’s on!” Dylan announced, as he headed for the TV.
    â€œWhat did you do?”
    Cam realized Nikki was talking to him. She pointed to the fabric he’d wrapped around his left hand.
    â€œTraining,” he lied. He wasn’t about to tell her he’d been wallowing in his own misery and cut his hand on a pretty glass flowerpot.
    â€œYou’ve been practicing,” she repeated, her voice oddly toneless. Almost like she didn’t approve.
    â€œYeah, some,” he told her, keeping his own voice neutral. “It’s kind of addictive.”
    Her face broke into a smile. “Yeah, it is. I never thought I’d like it—I did gymnastics when I was a kid, and at a certain point I started to hate it. The discipline, the hours and hours of practice. But parkour is different. No rules, you know?”
    â€œYou don’t like rules, I take