14
EMMY
My phone pinged with an email, not my work phone but my personal phone, the one hardly anyone had the number for. Why hello, Mr. President. I put down the machete I was using to hack at a clump of brambles and read what he had to say.
James: Is this a joke?
I clicked on the attachment and found an email. To James. From Bradley. What the f**k? I hit dial. Waited.
“Hey, chica linda,” James murmured, his voice soft. Warm.
An old nickname, but I’d known James for a long time. Black had known him for even longer. They’d gone to school together, been best friends until I f****d up and made things awkward between them. Slowly, slowly, things were getting better, but there was still a ways to go.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Who, Bradley?” James asked.
“Who else?”
“The turkey offer—
