“Keep going. I’m on the edge of my seat over here,” Charlotte encourages Sniper.
“Well, Ike decides to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.” Sniper uses his fingers to make quotations when he says, use the bathroom. “There was this guy in our unit, Williams . . . total sod. He was really good at ragging on people about shit. Of course, when Ike made his little bathroom break, Williams went in after him and caught him spanking it. He woke us all up laughing so hard.”
Charlotte turns to me, grinning from ear to ear. “You got caught whacking off in the middle of the night?”
“Yes,” I admit grumpily. Not exactly a story you want a girl you’re crazy about to hear.
“Thanks for that, Sniper,” I say, even though he can’t hear me.
“He says thanks,” Charlotte tells him as she chuckles at my expense.
“No problem, Spanky,” Sniper replies. “That was his nickname for the remainder of basic training.”
“Spanky?” Charlotte asks as she smiles brightly and shakes her head. Sniper just embarrassed the fuck out of me, but it worked. He relaxed her a little bit, but now we’re pulling into Ike and George’s parking lot, and her smile fades rapidly.
“It’ll be okay,” I assure her again.
She nods a few times as she stares at her truck. A police officer is standing near the passenger side looking inside, but not touching anything. When George sees Sniper’s truck pull in and park, he comes straight to the passenger door where Charlotte is and opens it.
“Hey,” he says, simply. The swelling of his lip and eye is much better, but there’s still a nasty pink and purple hue surrounding it. Reaching out his hand for Charlotte, he helps her out of the truck, and she smiles faintly in gratitude.
“When I got here this morning the windshield and driver’s side window was busted out. I didn’t touch it, but when I looked inside, it looked like maybe they went through your glove box.” George’s hand finds the small of her back and he leads her gently toward the police officer. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I remain standing near Sniper’s truck. Sniper stands about four feet from me, unbeknownst to him.
“Don’t worry, Ike,” he says, quietly. “I’ll help her.” Then he heads toward Charlotte’s 4Runner.
“Are you the owner of this vehicle?” the officer asks as I stare at the shattered glass on the hood of my truck.
“It’s in my father’s name,” I clarify, meeting his gaze.
“Are you aware the tags are expired?” he asks, and I want to roll my eyes. I have no idea if my father paid to renew the tags and license plate after I left. I’ve been pulled over countless times for those damn tags and the expired inspection, and I’ve collected a great deal of tickets for it as well. But as I’ve been drifting state to state for the last five years, I’ve never felt the need to pay those tickets or even mind their existence.
“I am,” I answer.
“Randy,” George says, annoyed. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on who broke into her truck?”
At that moment, Officer Randy’s partner approaches and pulls him aside, leaning toward him to tell him something. George steps in front of me and shakes his head at them. “Bath County doesn’t see a lot of excitement in the way of crime around here. He’s just trying to show off,” George assures me. I nod as I suck in a deep breath. I wonder if I tell the officers to leave, if they would. The longer they’re here, the more my stomach knots up. George places his hands on my arms and squeezes gently as he leans in and kisses my forehead. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers. When I look up at him, my brows furrow. He looks pale and a light sheen of sweat covers his face. He doesn’t look well at all.
“Are you okay?” I whisper. “Do you feel sick?”
He swallows hard, and his mouth curves to the side. “A little,” he admits. “I threw up a few times this morning.”
“George, you should go home and rest,” I insist as I touch the back of my hand to his forehead, which he quickly swipes away.
“I’m fine. I’m not leaving you here to deal with this alone.”
“Ms. Acres,” Randy calls me and I turn toward him, surprised to be addressed by my last name. Did George tell him my last name? He tugs the brim of his hat down before placing his hands on his belt. His partner stands just behind him.
“Yes?” I answer.
“We’re going to need you to come with us,” Randy says, and I tense as George steps farther in front of me.
“What the fuck for, Randy?” George snaps, and I realize how horrible the timing is. George is going through withdrawals and is already on edge. The last thing he needs is to be put in a situation that upsets him.
“That’s not your concern, George,” Randy’s partner says, as he steps forward.
“The hell it’s not, Willard. Someone broke into her truck last night, and you’re taking her in?”