“Okay. Ruffles for me. Doritos for you,” I planned.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
I stared up at him and felt my nose sting even as I heard my voice come out in a super, super quiet whisper.
“You’ll take care of me?”
“My Dad said you always got something if you’re not alone. We were alone. Now, we’re not alone.”
That thing deep in my belly felt funny but it also felt nice.
“I don’t like being alone,” I whispered.
“You’re not anymore.”
That felt nice too. Nicer than my birthdays. Nicer even than Christmas!
I nodded.
His hand gave mine a squeeze. “Go in. Be careful.”
I nodded again.
“Happens again, Sylvie, my room is on the right side, first window at the back. Just knock on the window. I’ll hear you.”
I nodded again.
“Don’t let them see you,” he whispered.
And I nodded again.
His hand gave mine a squeeze before he let me go.
He opened the door of the gate and he did it super slow, being careful and I was thankful.
I started through, Bootsie at my side, and looked back at him.
I smiled.
He smiled back.
Wow.
It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw.
Then I slipped through the door, Tucker closed it slow and careful behind me and I did what I would do normally but also what Tucker told me.
I got in and to my bed and didn’t let them see me.
Chapter Five
Winner Takes All
Present day…
I opened my front door and smelled garlic.
Fuck.
Seriously?
I turned, tossed my keys on the table beside the front door, pulled my gun and holster out of my belt at the back, set it on the table and moved to the left into my living room.
A huge, tan leather duffle was sitting, gapping open on my couch.
Fuck.
Fuck!
Seriously?
My eyes moved around the room and I saw the ashtrays had been cleaned, the beer bottles and dirty dishes cleared away and even the throws on the couches folded. My eyes moved up and I noted the wonky, hot pink, star-shaped fairy lights I had wrapped around my mantelpiece in disarray had been straightened and artfully draped.
They looked awesome.
Shit.
I stalked the other way, through my dining room, which still had the mess of magazines, newspapers and mail that had accumulated for the last month (maybe two) on the top of my dining room table. I stalked through the room even though, over the opened bar that delineated it from the kitchen, I saw Creed at my stove, his back to me.
“Uh, partner, I’m thinking I missed a memo,” I stated.
He twisted at the waist to look at me.
“You feed your cat once a day?” he asked and I stopped opposite the bar and planted my hands on my hips.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“She says two,” Creed informed me.
Shit. He spoke cat. This was not good. Gun knew all my secrets.
“Don’t let her bullshit you,” I ordered. “Though, if she’s been good, when I get home she gets five cat treats.”
“What constitutes bein’ good?”
“She’s breathing.”
He threw back his head and burst out laughing, the heady gorgeous sound of it filling the space, bouncing off the walls, slamming into me so hard, it made my legs get weak.
Therefore, I stalked to the fridge to get a beer.
“You like ziti?” Creed asked as I yanked open the fridge door.
“Yeah, I like ziti,” I answered, closed the door coming out with a beer in my hand and went on. “What I don’t like is your bag on my couch. What’s the deal?”
He continued to stir sauce as his eyes came to me. “The deal is, we got a job to do and to do it we gotta get close with zero time to find that. So we gotta find the time to find that.”
“How ‘bout I eat your ziti and we put together a puzzle and find it before you leave and find a hotel room?”
“Too late,” he replied. “Went over to meet Charlene and the kids, tell them I’m here, gonna be here awhile, I know about her situation and I’m on call if she needs anything. She seemed excited and not just ‘cause she needs the help. Apparently, she’s worried about your way of life and thinks you’re gonna die lonely. Also, her bathroom faucet is dripping. Something’s rattling in her car. And that motherfucker who left her didn’t switch the storm windows out to screens before he hauled ass, it’s hot and she can’t afford to run the air conditioning. So tomorrow, I’m gonna be busy.”
I stood completely still, staring at him and waiting while I made the superhuman effort to keep my head from exploding.
This took a while and Creed kept stirring the sauce even though his eyes didn’t leave me.
Once I ascertained my head wasn’t going to explode or, more aptly, I wasn’t going to attack and indulge in an attempt to break his neck, I whispered, “That was not cool.”
“I work and I don’t f**k around when I do. There is no cool and uncool in a job. You do what you gotta do,” he returned.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I shot back but did it still whispering.
“I disagree,” he replied.
“Explain, exactly, how that was okay.”
“This was Arizona, you’d be deep in my life. You know the shit I care about, the people that mean something to me, you’d do what you can to make certain I didn’t get taken away from any of it. That’s how it’s okay. You had a partner, his wife and kids are still a part of your life. You get me,” he told me.
“I have your back. You have my word on that so you don’t need that shit.”
“Now I have your back for more than the fact I don’t wanna see anything happen to you but it’s deeper. Way f**kin’ deeper and you know exactly how. They’d suffer and they’d suffer huge if you weren’t there in the morning. So, shit goes down, no matter what it is, I’ll bust my ass to make sure you’re there in the morning.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
He made sense. It was Asshole Invasive Sense (yes, meriting capital letters) but it was still sense.
Jesus.
I put the bottle cap edge to the counter, slammed the butt of my palm on it and the cap went flying. I ignored it and threw back a hefty pull.