Aunt Delores’s finger twitches at her side as she points to the counter. “Yes, ma’am, Lou. You’re in charge. If you can just get my pills for me; they’re in the breadbox.”
It’s almost like my mind works backward. Stringing words to the memories they go with. Pills. You’re in charge.
Fuck yeah, I’m in charge.
Arianne’s making cow eyes at Buck, so I edge in front of the breadbox and casually flip up the lid. “Aunt Delores, you need to tie your shoelace before you trip and break something.”
As Aunt Delores bends, I yank the forty-five from its hiding spot. In milliseconds, I’ve got the safety off and my finger on the trigger.
I douse Arianne with the contents of my glass. She jumps. Her arms fling out to her sides enough to get the barrel of that nine pointing away from Aunt Delores.
I flinch as sound explodes in the room.
Aunt Delores falls to her knees, grabbing the nine Arianne dropped. Arianne rushes at me, her face wild with rage. Her hand comes at my face, claws out.
The woman has lost her fucking mind.
I let her get close. She grabs a handful of my hair.
I press the still-hot barrel of the forty-five against her side. “You’d best back off, bitch. I will not wing your ass this time. I was being nice by not taking your fucking head off with the first bullet.”
Arianne goes still, her blue eyes six inches from mine, hard and hate filled. “You will pay. Just wait. I’ll make you pay.”
I grin. “Not before you do.”
With one quick motion, I sling my head forward, my forehead connecting with her nose. The shock of pain that flares through my brain for a split second is made completely worth it when Arianne weaves backward a couple of steps before falling into a heap on the kitchen floor.
Buck rushes to Aunt Delores, taking the nine from her shaking hands and helping her to her feet.
I toss a kitchen towel into Arianne’s lap. “You may want to put some pressure on that.”
She shakes her head as though trying to clear it. Then she looks at the wound on her upper arm. Her eyes roll back as she slumps over, unconscious.
The kitchen door busts in with a bang. Thugs One, Three, and Four trip over each other as they spill inside.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and dial.
“This is nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“Please send someone out to collect this fidiot with a gun.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, did you say fidiot?”
“Yeah, you know, fucking idiot.”
The red and blue lights fade behind the bank of trees lining the road. I let out an exhausted breath.
Aunt Delores gives me a light hug. “Well, I’ve had enough excitement to last me a while. I think I’ll go check my britches and take a nap.”
“Check your britches?” I ask.
“I just about shit all over myself when you fired that gun. I figure I should check for skid marks at the very least.”
She grins and I laugh. Leave it to Aunt Delores to bring a smile in the midst of these warped circumstances.
As she climbs the stairs to head up for the night, Buck wraps Nan in another hug.
He pats Pops on his back. “I’m fine. We’re all okay. You two go on home. I’ll be over later. I need to talk to Lou.”
A lead rock falls into my gut.
The yard clears out in about ten seconds as the crew scatters to the wind.
Buck runs his hands over my shoulders. “Lou.”
My skin burns under his touch. “Buck.”
He yanks me into his embrace. “I am so fucking happy you’re all right.”
I nod. “Me too.”
“Look, about earlier—”
I put my finger to his lips. “Shush. We don’t need to talk about that. I know being married is a nail in the coffin of your career. Proposing for the show was a nice touch, but I don’t really want to have to fake a break-up in a few weeks.”
He presses his lips tight, but then they turn up in a small smile. “You’re right. Look, I’m leaving for Anguilla in a few days to shoot my next film. I’ll be gone and, if you want, you can move on. But until then, can we just be together?”
“Together?”
“Yeah. Spend time in one another’s company? I’ve missed you, Lou.”
The weight in my heart lifts. It isn’t exactly what I hoped for, but at this point, I’m just pathetic enough to take what I can get.
I lean to him, whispering in his ear. “Can we be together in bed?”
His hold tightens on me. “Fuck yeah, we can.”
TWENTY-NINE
I roll over, covers tangling around my legs. The knocking becomes more insistent.
I crack an eyelid, yelling, “It’s not even fucking dawn.”
Buck’s voice comes through the exterior door. “Loula Mae Fontaine, open up.”