Chapter 7

Another T-shirt is missing,Bay thought, calculating numbers inside his mind.

The sky blue one trimmed in white. One he didn’t really feel comfortable in since it wasn’t a V-neck, but used as a back-up when his black T-shirts were dirty and in the laundry.

“I have seven left. That makes three missing now.”

He checked his jeans in the top drawer of the walnut dresser inside his bedroom. None were missing, except for his Lucky Brand ones, which he hadn’t seen in the last week. Obviously stolen. Bay closed the drawer and shook his head.

“Well, at least the guy who’s wearing them will have a hot ass in the denim.”

A firefly no bigger than his index finger’s nail buzzed his left ear. It landed on a Stuart Woods paperback, dully flashed yellow-green, and flew to a window’s closed screen. Bay slid the screen upwards and let the lightning bug into freedom.

“Hotura,” he whispered, recalling the previous day’s visit from Ni.