We stayed this way a long time. It wasn’t comfortable but it was warm and it still felt good.
Finally, he said something.
“You know, I lost him too.”
“I know Tu… I mean, Creed.”
“She acts like she’s the only one.”
“I know.”
“It’s been years and I still find her drunk, smellin’ bad and passed out on the stupid couch with a stupid bottle, booze drenched in the carpet, his picture in her hand.”
I pressed closer.
“I lost him too,” he whispered.
“I know, Creed.”
He pulled in a loud breath.
Then he said quiet, “You gotta get home.”
I didn’t want to but I agreed, “Yeah.”
We got up and he took my hand as we walked back to the gate. He stopped me like he always did outside. Then his eyes dropped to my throat, his hand let mine go and he lifted it and twitched the pendant there.
He looked back at me and grinned. “You’re always wearin’ one ‘a those.”
I nodded.
“Even if they don’t match your outfit,” he kept talking.
I grinned back. I liked it that he noticed. It felt good.
“I like them,” I said. “And they’ve never turned my skin green.”
He shook his head, still grinning and told me, “You’re a goof.”
I shoved his shoulder and told him, “You’re a goof.”
He shoved me back and replied, “You’re a bigger goof.”
I smiled big and said, “Yeah.”
“Go to bed, goof.”
“Okay. You go home, goof.”
He shook his head again then opened the gate for me.
I started to slide through but turned back and looked up at him.
“Creed is the best name ever,” I whispered. “I always thought so. Always. I’m glad you’re Creed but you always have been, you know.”
I heard him pull in another breath.
Then he whispered, “Go to bed, Sylvie.”
I grinned up at him. “Okay, Creed.”
I slipped through the gate, hearing it latch quietly behind me.
Then I stole through the yard, the house, took off my warm clothes, changed my nightgown that had mud stains on the knees and seat, hid the dirty one under my mattress and I went to bed.
Chapter Nine
You Can’t Breathe without Me
Present day, four days later…
My eyes opened and all I could see was Creed’s tattooed back in front of me.
The last four days I woke up alone to Creed making breakfast in the kitchen. Clearly, he was an early riser. I was not but did it for Charlene, though I got up at the last possible second.
Last night, though, we went out. I got a shade past tipsy and when we came home, I attacked. It had been energetic, or more energetic than usual. It had lasted a long time, or even longer than normal. And it only stopped when we both passed out, or when I did.
I must have done him in. Now, he was out.
Sleep slowly leaving me, recent memories moved through my head.
These were mostly about working and spending time with Creed. Learning he wasn’t good at his job, he was very good. He was a good partner, communicative, amusing, alert, sharp. Working with him was a lot like working with Ron, my dead partner. I could trust him because he knew what he was doing. We worked shit through, planned our moves, broke stuff down and when we did, he listened to me. I wasn’t just another gun, someone he was putting up with or a liability. I was a colleague. He treated me with respect, wasn’t overly protective and never acted like I was a girl.
A couple of nights ago, he’d shared in my back room over beers, takeout cheeseburgers and onion rings that he’d had more experience than me, falling into the work within months of moving to Michigan. I’d shared that I’d started my training with Ron when I met him at a gun shop and range when I was buying my first gun about a week after I moved to Denver. I also shared that Ron offered to teach me how to shoot and, shortly after that, he took me on, we became partners and he’d taught me everything I knew.
I further learned about Creed that, whatever happened sixteen years ago, he was a decent guy or good at playing one.
He went with me every day to Charlene’s, even over the weekend, and there were no more donuts or Cocoa Puffs. Eggs and bacon that he made. Pancakes. Oatmeal. He was good with the kids and especially Adam.
I knew this when, two days before, Adam had broken a figurine, kinda went weird about it and before Charlene or I could wade in, Creed did, calming Adam and then going so far as cleaning up the figurine.
He also took them to lunch on Sunday then to the park while I went to Ron’s grave giving Charlene the house to herself to clean and then relax. It was a cool thing to do. They had to be a hand full but they came back excited and intact and Charlene called me that night to say they all were dead to the world within seconds of their heads hitting the pillows.