Devil You Know(86)

“Maybe.” Probably. “It’s been so long, though, that it kind of feels as though we’ll never get past the shit between us, you know? I wonder if maybe things are left best as they are?”

“And what, let it rot you from the inside out? Keep being a closed-off asshole because you can’t resolve your daddy issues?”

“Fuck you, Bronx.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s taken this fucking long to get his head out of his ass and see the sun on the horizon. It’s all up to you,” he says, tipping his bottle at me. “You fuck this up with Jane, or your dad, for that matter, and it’s all on you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Before you assholes get to fisticuffs,” Ty scolds, “don’t forget we have Tigger’s funeral tomorrow. Both of you pricks have to be there early.”

“Why?” Bronx asks.

Ty slaps a hand to his head, and groans. “Don’t you listen to anything I tell you? Were you there the other day?”

“We’re pall-bearers,” I say. “So make sure you get your ‘mom’ to iron your shirt,” I tease.

Bronx flips his middle finger at me, and sculls the last of his beer. “I’ll catch you guys there, then. Better go take my washing to Mom’s.” He pokes his tongue out as he passes by, and grabs his helmet off the bench.

“Early,” Ty reiterates as Bronx heads out the door. He turns, and shakes his head at me. “Probably off to get his latest fuck-buddy to do it, more like.”

“I swear to God, that guy’s dick will fall off one day.”

Ty chuckles, and raises his beer. “Too true.” His expression falls, and he noticeably clears his throat. “I still feel bad about Jane finding that shit, eh?”

“Done is done.” I chug the water, and recap the bottle. “She’ll be okay. She’s still seeing that counselor, and we’ve agreed to find somewhere to live soon.”

“Yeah?” He looks as excited as a kid at Christmas. “You two are quite serious about it then?”

“As can be.” I swirl the water in my hand. “I still worry my problems will ruin it.”

“Why?”

“What would you be looking for if you left a situation like hers?” I ask. “Stability, security, somebody to give you a normal life? What’s normal and stable about me?”

“The fact you feel so strongly about her,” Ty reasons.

“I love her, man.”

He hisses through his teeth. “Then you best pull your head out of your ass and get your shit squared away. Call your dad, talk to him, and for fuck’s sake, accept the life we have. It’s not perfect, and yeah, there are always going to be risks. But fuck, man, it could be a lot worse. We both know that.”

I nod, and open the bottle to down the last of the water. It could be a lot worse. At least these days I have a roof over my head, steady income, and options. Maybe said options are hog-tied to my obligations to the criminals we work for, but fuck, at least I still have them.

“I’ll catch you tomorrow, huh? Better go check I still have a dress shirt that fits.”

“You two are hopeless.” Ty laughs. “Go home before Jane wonders where you are.”

I mock salute, and head for the door.

“And for God’s sake, call your dad,” he calls after me as I head down the steps.

Yeah, nah.

• • • • •

ALL LIGHTS are off next door as I pull up to my place in town. I breathe a sigh of relief. Yep, I seriously considered buying a new shirt tomorrow to avoid having to return here.

I kill the engine, and step out of the pick-up. Crisp evening air pricks at my face, and I scout the yard in front of Jane’s old house. The grass is longer than usual, and weeds dot the garden. No prizes for guessing who looked after the place.

I can’t shake the feeling of being watched as I head to the front door. Once more I sweep her yard, only to find nothing more than the signs of a kept man who no longer has his slave. To be sure, I push the button on the fob, and double-check the pick-up is locked.

Luckily for me, my wardrobe heralds not only one dress shirt, but a choice of two. I pick the gray one and take it plus a pair of dress slacks, and my formal shoes. Everything in the house seems in place as I wander through to the front door. The steady tick of the kitchen clock is the only noise to be heard.

Eerie.

My eyes zone right in on the windscreen the minute I step foot outside. I fuckin’ knew the asshole was about. My feet crunch the stones as I march toward the graffiti. Anger builds inside while I throw my things in the passenger seat, and take a step back to read the poorly scrawled word.