Page 68 of Misguided

“Jonesboro,” Digits answers.

“What the hell he doin’ in Arkansas?” Murphy asks.

“Stayin’ away from popular territory,” Crackers murmurs from the end of the table.

“We know many people that way?” Jo-Jo asks.

Crackers shakes his head as I slump back in my seat.

Mel’s hand squeezes tight under mine. “Should make it easy to narrow down where he’s gone then, shouldn’t it?” she asks.

“Assuming he’s even used our contacts at all,” Murphy states.

She ducks her head, that pink tongue of hers darting out to wet her lips. “Have to start somewhere, right?”

“I’ve got no other options,” Crackers agrees with a toss of his hands. “We’re stabbing around in one giant motherfuckin’ haystack hoping to hit anything at all.”

“We could just wait for him to come back on his own,” Digits says a little too cool for my liking.

“He’s got no idea that his name’s been cleared, man,” I cut back. “So what exactly makes you think he’d come back on his own accord?”

“Hey,” he protests. “It was just an idea.”

“Pretty shitty one, jackass,” I mutter.

“Dog.” Crackers stares me down.

“Who’s goin’ then?” Murphy looks at each of us in turn. “I’d put my hand up, but I finally got that appointment for the ultrasound on my fuckin’ elbow I’ve been waitin’ for and I ain’t waiting another five months to get a new one.”

“Nope, you stay here,” Crackers says. “Digits, I need you around to keep checkin’ for any hits on his number or bank account.”

The shithead scowls at our side of the table: Jo-Jo, myself, and Mel.

“I’m disposable,” I pipe up before the crazy fucker to our left has a chance to say anything. “Got nothin’ else important on.”

Crackers frowns chewing his bottom lip. “I’ll run it past King, first.”

“Yeah,” Digits snipes. “Wouldn’t want to get you grounded now, would we?”

I flip the asshole the middle finger, ready to throw down if he so much as utters another word.

“I’m going too.”

The entire table turns its attention toward Mel.

“Pardon?” Crackers visibly reels at her statement.

“Are you sure?” Murphy tests. “You might not like what you find.” His tone borders on condescending—only a fatherly figure like Murphy could pull it off without insulting anyone.

Mel squares her shoulders, her hand slipping from my leg as she straightens in her seat. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Murphy, but with all due respect, I’ve seen more than I should ever have to. I’ve picked him up off the floor and wiped his vomit from his face when he had one too many pills. I’ve nursed my brother’s strength back when he thought alcohol poisoning would be a swell way to start his summer. And I’ve also witnessed my mother do the same for my father when she thought nobody was around to see him in that state.

“I’ve been there, done that, and I’m ready to do it all again if it pieces what little I have left of my family back together.”

I couldn’t be more proud of her. She’s shown more selfless purpose in that single moment than in all her efforts to find a reason to be home the last couple of weeks.

Problem is, I still think she doesn’t realize it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. I’m ready for Hooch to come home now.”

“Aren’t we all,” Crackers agrees as he smacks the gavel down. “Let’s make sure it’s the last time I have to do that for a while, huh?”