She nodded as though she understood.
We sat under the weeping willow and ate muffins. She told me about her husband, Manny, and how they’d bought the old McIntire place that sat between us and the Buckners’. She made me laugh at the stories she told about her nieces and nephews. Then she invited me to visit any time I wanted.
Delores Dubois was the second person who ever made me feel important.
Buck was the first.
As though materializing from my thoughts, Buck steps around the corner of the ramshackle trailer house.
He stops, a perplexed expression on his face.
I ask, “What?”
He shakes his head as he crosses the overgrown yard to me. “Nothing, I just wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“Oh? You mean you weren’t stalking me?”
“Fuck, Lou. You have the lowest possible opinion of me about everything, don’t you?”
I cross my arms. “Pretty much. It didn’t exactly help that you went all caveman on me at the club—”
“Okay, maybe I was out of line—maybe.”
“And then you thought you could just come over and slink your way into my bed.”
He lets out a loud huff. “Well, you left me with a raging case of blue balls, so I think we’re even.”
My eyes narrow and I poke him in the chest to emphasize each word I spit. “I left you? I left YOU? You left me first.”
“What the fuck? I wasn’t going to leave. I got you off and was planning to do it again, and again.”
“I’m not talking about last night, you jackass. For months I fucking waited for you to miss me. To call me. To come back to me. There’s no way in fucking hell you didn’t deserve every excruciating second of blue balls you had last night, and then some. A whole lot more of some. You got into my pants and couldn’t wait to take off the very next day.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes. “You and I made love that last night. I was naïve enough to think it would make you want to stay. But I guess it meant something different to you than it did for me. And since then, I’ve seen you all over the gossip shows and in the fucking papers with a new girl every week—fuck, almost every day. Looks like hit it and quit it is your MO. So I guess I’m no different than any of them.”
The muscle ticks at his jaw. “Those girls all knew the score. I didn’t lead any of them on. I didn’t lead you on. You and I had planned for things to go just the way they did for months.”
He grabs my hand, yanking me to him, circling my waist with his other arm. “You were supposed to be heading to college. Supposed to be starting a new life. Moving on. Getting out. Both of us were.”
I look away. “Well, I didn’t go to school, and you never called. But I did get out. You did too. So I guess none of it matters now anyway.”
“It matters to me. I did what I did to help you. I never meant for it to hurt you. Never.”
I push out of his embrace. “Well, it did.”
Tugging my T-shirt into place, I limp toward the tree line.
“Shit. I’m sorry about your ankle, Lou.”
I shrug. “I’ve had worse injuries. Pain is just weakness leaving the body, right?”
Ever since the first time I heard that saying, I’ve wondered if that includes pain of the soul? If so, mine must be made of steel, forged in the fires of suffering and heartbreak.
He takes several strides to catch up with me. “Can we start over? I want to be friends. I’ve missed you, Lou.”
I stop, putting my hand flat on his chest, halting him. “Friends? Yeah, that worked out so well for me the last time. Look, I’m not going to fuck you or anything else, Buck. So run along. I’m just not interested.”
His jaw drops a fraction, but he recovers quickly. “You know, maybe I’m not as bad as you’ve convinced yourself I am. Maybe—damn it, Lou—maybe I do want to fuck you. Is that so wrong?”
ELEVEN
I can’t win for fucking losing with her.
Lou backs away, throwing her hands in the air as she turns. “Whatever. Look, I’ve got to get off this ankle so it will be good to go by tomorrow. I start my new job and I need to be ready. And I sure as hell need the money more than I need to stand here talking to you, because that doesn’t pay.”
She stalks away, leaving me with my dick in the dirt again.
Fuck.
I head back toward home.
When I step out of the trees onto our side of the property line, Thug Two waits, arms crossed, frown firmly in place.
“Fuck, man. I hired you—why is it I that feel like a kid who just got caught sneaking out?”
He shrugs.
Thug One appears out of the dark. “Hey, Boss. It would really help if you’d let us know where you’re going.”