Nothing said suspicious like a motorcycle buried in a shrub. Very carefully at that. Emerald-esque leaves covered the machinery without even touching the precious parts. June would kill someone if it got so much as a blemish. A scratch would send her into a murderous frenzy.

That’s why she’d been so late and rolled up to the scene with her hands in her pockets. Act casual, and look normal. Wasn’t very normal to be in some random ass part of a forest, though. When would people learn that it was more normal to meet with a friend in a coffee shop or dingy bar than some bum-fuck nowhere clearing?

“Sorry, got lost in the forest,” she jerked her thumb backward, “was looking for a single tree.”

The delivery girl stopped in her tracks. Her client was wearing a bulky as hell gas mask. In the middle of summer. Why? On second thought, not something she wanted to know. But it did help determine the kind of person she dealt with.

This chick was nuts to a degree. Thankfully, the only thing she smelt so far was pollen and grass. When that changed to poison, she’d need to run fast and far. That, or she wanted to tag a few trees in protest of… something.

Fucking Howard. Always gave her the crazy people. “Did Fox tell you to plan a meet up here? Just because he’s your superior doesn’t mean you need to listen, y’know. I’ve negotiated drug deliveries in neighborhood playgrounds before– no one really cares as long as you don’t look out of place.”

Nothing screamed out of place like a forest and a gas mask. Maybe she wanted to burn it down? “What do you want?”

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Absinthe Blackwood