“You’ve done time. And I’ll even go a step further and say it was for something you really didn’t do.” Her eyes soften with sympathy. I have to fight to control my laughter.
“My point.”
“Shit!”
“One more and I win. But don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.” I smirk.
Throwing me a mock smirk of her own, she gives me the finger. So rude.
“Fine. You like whores. You like the idea of sex with no strings attached.”
“You’re cheating.”
“Am I? Are you saying you don’t like the idea of sex with no attachment? So, you’re that kind of sap? The one that falls in love with every woman that lands in his bed?”
I glare at her. She glares back, daring me to say she’s wrong. Fucking competitive woman.
“Point.”
“That’s what I thought. Now we’re tied.” She waits a minute before delivering the final blow. I guess she’s hoping I’ll become uneasy. Hope. It’s such a dangerous thing.
“Deep down, Zeke, you’re a good guy. On the surface you try to act bad and keep those walls up, but beneath all that, you’re just a man who fights for what he believes in. A man whose loyalty knows no bounds. One of the few people left in this world that’s willing to give his life for the people he truly loves.” There is conviction in her words. She really believes them to be true. Some of them are.
I do fight for what I believe in. I am loyal and there is no limit to my dedication. I would give my life for the people I love. Just like life has been given for me. But what she sees isn’t an act. I’m not a good guy. I’m a murderer. A cold-blooded killer. And if that’s not enough to make me a bad guy, not feeling the least bit of remorse for my actions is.
I stand and reach my hand out for hers. She takes it without hesitation. I pull a handful of money from my pocket and drop it on the table. Then leaning in close, I take her earlobe in my mouth, biting softly before whispering, “My point.”
4
“IT’S SO PEACEFUL here.” Diem closes her eyes and inhales the night air that is crisp and cool even in the summer. I’d driven us back to my place, stopping to grab some beer and a bottle of wine for her. Not that she needs it. She’s been drinking out of my bottle since we got back.
“I like it,” I say, focusing more on getting this blunt rolled than I am on her. Cheap-ass cigars.
“Here, let me.” In true Diem fashion, she pulls the work in progress from my lap without asking and sets it on the porch railing. She’s standing in front of me, her fingers working quickly and efficiently. In record time, she’s sealing it with her wet tongue and handing it to me.
“You a hippie or something?”
“Something.” Well that’s evasive.
She leans over the railing, looking out across the field. “I grew up in Chicago. The lights and noise have always been home to me. But seeing this makes me wish sometimes that I grew up somewhere else.”
I get the feeling she’s not just talking about the place she lived. From the melancholy in her voice, it sounds like she wishes she had a different life altogether.
I light the blunt, not surprised at how tightly it’s wrapped or how well it burns. I move to stand next to her, leaning down on my elbows and offering her a drag.
She shakes her head. “No thanks. I gave it up a long time ago. My job doesn’t allow me to indulge in such reckless behavior.” Her shoulder nudges mine as she smiles.
“And what kind of job is that?” I ask, enjoying the burn in the back of my throat and the feeling of relaxation as it swims through me.
“I’m a pharmaceutical sales rep.”
I smile at the irony. Or the weed. “So you sell drugs.”
She laughs. “Pretty much. I moved here to Hillsborough because it’s a central location for my clients. And it’s nice to have a quiet escape from the city. There’s nothing like coming home to silence after you’ve worked all day.” I can relate to everything she’s saying.
“And you? What do you do, mystery man? Or am I going to have to guess?” Her smile is lazy and her eyes heavy. She might not be smoking it, but she’s too close to not be affected. And I’m sure she knows that too.
“I’m a website designer.”
She isn’t surprised. “Nerd. And here I was thinking you were an ex-con struggling on your path to rehabilitation. Figures you’d be a computer geek.”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky, Diem.” I narrow my eyes on her, knocking the cherry off the tip of the cigar. “You’re the one that lost a bet to that nerd. What does that say about you?”