Shit, Deke comforted me then tousled my hair like I was his little sister.
Shit.
I didn’t like that.
But it was kind and it was sweet and it came from Deke.
So as was becoming my lot, I’d take it.
*
Deke
He had a screw loose, he knew it and fuck him, he couldn’t stop himself.
This was why, the evening the day after Jus got that call that set her off (and he kept a close eye on her yesterday afternoon and all that day, saw she’d pulled it together enough to fake it, but she couldn’t hide something haunted her eyes), Deke was in his truck on his way to her place.
He’d left work there, gone home, showered, changed, hit the grocery store, and as night was quickly falling, he was heading back.
It was whacked. It was stupid.
And it was dangerous.
With all of that, the fact remained she wasn’t sharing and she also wasn’t hiding that shit in her life was clearly extreme. She’d lost her dad. Her brother was being a dick. And something was going on with a woman she called Joss. Deke had no idea what it was but he heard Jus’s voice raise on the deck even if he didn’t hear what she said and then he’d watched her through the windows, knowing by the line of her body she was agitated.
Fuck, every phone call she got set something off in her or sounded fucked.
But Jus, she pulled it together and faked it as best she could.
She was new in Carnal. As far as he could tell, she had no one close. And the one she should have should not be him.
He still had a brown paper bag filled with hot dogs, buns, condiments, a tub of macaroni salad, a big bag of chips and the makings of s’mores. Next to that bag he had a six-pack of cold beer. He’d also tagged a bunch of wire hangers from his closet. And he’d brought his wire cutters.
Now he was heading to her place because he was a dumbfuck.
It wasn’t early. It was getting late.
Maybe she wouldn’t be there.
This would be good.
Maybe if she was there, she’d eaten.
If she had, he’d eat, he’d listen if she talked and she could drink beer while he gave her someone to be with, such a fucking moron, not able to cope with thinking of her in that fucked-up house all alone with shit bearing down on her that was extreme.
Oh yeah, fuck yeah, he had a screw loose.
“Shit,” he muttered, rolling up to her house and seeing her granddad’s truck there.
She was home.
“Fuck,” he sighed.
But he didn’t turn around. He didn’t leave. He parked, got out, moved around the truck and got the shit.
She’d heard his approach and he knew this because the door was open and she was standing in it by the time he started walking to it.
“Is everything…uh, what’s going on?” she called.
He didn’t answer and stopped in front of her, feeling his mouth tighten.
Sun almost gone, the space behind her was dark.
The next day, he needed to finish some outlets. Get her some light in that area. It was dangerous, her moving around that space in the dark.
And Max had told him that she’d contracted with some man the name of Callahan, a hotshot in the security business, probably the kind of guy only people like Jus could afford. This he knew because Max told him she was flying Callahan in in a couple of weeks to install her security system.
He was going to talk to Max to talk to Callahan to speed that up. Callahan wouldn’t need walls and floors set in to give her security.
“Deke?”
His eyes dropped to hers.
“You eat?” he asked as greeting.
“Generally, yes, as you know since you’ve seen me do it and likely are aware all beings need some form of sustenance to survive,” she sassed. “Tonight, not yet. I was about to go out because I’d heard there was a Mexican place in Chantelle that can’t be beat.”
“Rosalinda’s. Hit that, hit jalape?o heaven.”
Even that deep into dusk, he saw her pretty face light with a smile.
Total dumbfuck.
“Tonight, though, we’re breaking in your fire pit,” he told her.
At that, she beamed.
“Please say hot dogs,” she begged through the rays.
He shoved the six-pack her way and gave her what she wanted.
“Hot dogs.”
“Far out!” she cried, too fucking cute for any man’s peace of mind, especially his, grabbing the beer from him, turning and moving into the dark space.
“Light the pit, Jus. I’ll go get the chairs.”
“You got it,” she said, hustling to the back door.
He followed her, dropped the bag by where she’d put the beer on the decking and left her lighting the pit. He came back with one of the chairs that sat on her other deck to see the pit dancing but she was gone. He took off to go get the other chair and when he returned, she was back.
“Napkins,” she declared, waving some in the air. “No plates, dude. Sorry. And only plastic cutlery. So sorry again.”
“I look like a man who gives a shit about plastic forks?” he asked.
“Not really,” she answered.
“That’s ’cause I’m not.”