I felt something lodge in my throat.
I knew what it was.
It was fear.
Okay, so maybe I was a lot scared.
“Last night… Hank,” I answered.
For a second he didn’t move, then he put his hands at my waist and pul ed me around so I was sitting on his lap.
Then his lips touched my neck and he said, “I wasn’t mad at you last night.”
“You sure seemed mad.”
“That wasn’t mad, that was frustrated.”
Dear Lord, if that wasn’t mad, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see mad.
His head came up and he looked at me in the dark.
“I don’t like Marcus,” he said.
“I think I got that.”
I could swear, even in the dark, I could see him smile.
“I also don’t like seein’ you with other guys.”
“I haven’t been with other guys.”
“Vance?”
Hmm.
“Mace?”
Wel , what could I say? That was a life or death situation.
“Hank?”
I didn’t real y have an excuse for that one.
“I’l try to do better,” I said.
“Try real hard.”
Eek.
Time for a new subject.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
His arms tightened and I came closer. I slid my hands around his middle and put my head on his shoulder.
“Yesterday, nothing happened. No one shot at me and I didn’t wrestle with anyone and my stun gun stayed in my purse the whole day. Except for seeing Shirleen tel Darius to whack Vince, yesterday was a good day.” Eddie’s body grew stil when I talked about Shirleen and Darius.
“Don’t worry, I told Hank about it. He made some cal s,” I assured him.
“Lee told me last night. That why you left me a message?”
I nodded against his shoulder.
His body relaxed.
“I think we should celebrate,” I decided, lifting my head to look at him, “Not about Darius whacking Vince but for a day with no hair-raising experiences. I’l make you dinner tonight.”
He ran a hand through the side of my hair and then rested it against my neck.
“Dinner would be good,” he said in a soft voice.
My bel y did a curl.
“Maybe Mom and Lottie wil come over. And Tex.”
“I thought your sister was moving to Denver?” he asked.
“She is.”
“They can come over another night.”
My bel y curl graduated to a doo-da spasm.
“Okay,” I agreed.
He touched his lips to mine.
“Why are you leaving so early?” I asked when he was done.
“Got shit to do.”
“My shit?”
“Your shit.”
Wonderful.
I real y was a pain in the ass.
I tucked my head into his throat.
“I’m sorry,” I said against his skin, “I hate this.”
“Mi amor, it’l be over soon.”
“I hope so, who would have thought it but I want my boring, old, normal life back.”
His body shook with soft laughter.
“Chiquita, I’m not sure you’re capable of boring and normal.”
I wished he was right.
“Just you wait,” I mumbled.
He didn’t say anything but I could tel , even in his silence, he didn’t believe me.
“I’ve set the alarm so you can get up later, Bobby’l be
“I’ve set the alarm so you can get up later, Bobby’l be here at 7:30 to take you to Fortnum’s.”
Bobby was another of Lee’s men and I was guessing Bobby pul ed Jet Duty that morning.
I sighed.
“Al right.”
He kissed me, the touch-on-the-lips, touch-the-tips-of-the-tongue kiss. It was one of my favorites.
Who was I kidding? They were al my favorites.
“Be good,” he said against my mouth.
I sighed again.
“I’l try.”
He was laughing when he put me back into bed.
It was only when he was gone that I realized I stil had fear lodged in my throat. It wasn’t fear of men with guns and knives and rape on their mind, it was a whole other kind of fear that, cal me crazy, was far worse.
*
The alarm went off and I hit the snooze, thanking God for one smal favor, that the snooze button was always the biggest one. The alarm went off again, and again I hit the snooze.
This happened two more times.
At 7:15, I stared bleary-eyed at the clock, let out a little scream and jumped from the bed.
I was in my underwear and one of Eddie’s flannel shirts, hair wet from a fast shower and in a complete tizzy, when there came a pounding at the door.
It was Bobby.
Bobby was built like a tree and he looked like a member of the Tex Family, except younger and before the crazy kicked in. Just before.
He did a body scan and his eyebrows went up.
“I’m running late, can you wait?” I said to him.
He shrugged, sat down on the couch, grabbed a remote and found a bal game.
“How can there be a bal game on at 7:30?” I said, exasperated, staring at the screen.
“English footbal , it’s later there. Man U vs. Arsenal, a friendly.”
It was like he was speaking in code but I wasn’t real y listening, I was staring at the screen.
These guys didn’t wear pads and helmets that hid their faces, these guys didn’t wear sil y pants with gathers at the ankles.