I swallow, tucking my junk into my jeans, trying to do them up without catching my ball sack in the zipper. “What question, Miss Delores?”
“You do have a dick. Lou didn’t seem like she was real sure about it back when we had the water leak. Guess she had to check that out for herself.”
Lou’s forehead presses into my spine. “Oh, good Lord, help me.”
“You two ought to know better than to be sneaking around in the dark in an old lady’s house. You’re just lucky I didn’t shoot first and ask questions later.”
Lou reaches around me and takes the gun from Delores. “Let me have that before you hurt someone.”
Delores relinquishes the firearm with a shrug. “Okay, but that means you’re in charge.”
“In charge of what?” Lou chuckles.
“Why, in charge of killing burglars and home invaders.”
“Yes, ma’am. All home invaders shall be shot on sight.” Lou salutes and pulls the hem of her top down a bit more. “C’mon, Buck. I’ll show you out.”
Aunt Delores heads down the hall, waving her hand. “I’ll go take my pills. That’s where I was heading when I heard that strange noise.”
“In the middle of the night?” Lou asks.
Delores shrugs. “I’m old. It took me a long time to get to the age where I can do weird shit and no one can say anything. So hush.”
“All right. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” Lou tugs me toward the front room.
Delores calls behind her. “You might as well go finish your fuckin’. Poor boy’s gonna have a raging case of blue balls if you don’t. And that’s quite a set of balls to have that problem.”
Lou burst out with a laugh. “Forget his balls. I’ll end up with a violent case of blue vajayjay.”
* * *
I let myself out of Delores’s back door and head down the steps the way I came in three and a half hours ago. Instead of heading to Nan’s, I take a walk over to Lou’s old trailer house. The gray light of morning has yet to warm up too much, and the grass is wet on my pant legs.
The last time I dragged Lou from this place—her momma sitting on the floor, screaming and cradling that bastard’s head in her lap—is as clear in my mind now as it was that day.
It was the day I got that harrowing phone call from Lou, the one that dragged me from work, and had the hair standing on the back of my neck all the way through town to her place.
My brain went through a thousand scenarios of what could have happened with Candace and Lou. Obviously, Candace found the phone I paid for, not that I’d ever understand why Lou felt the need to hide it. But surely that isn’t what made her lose her shit. Maybe she was just high and went into a drug-induced rage?
I ran inside, leaving the door flapping against the wall behind me. The scent of burnt chemicals hung in the air as I dashed down the darkened hallway toward the screaming.
Candace held the handle, her feet braced at either side of the door, yelling, “Just be nice to D’Jon, Loula Mae. He’s not gonna hurt you if you behave. I need the money; I’ll even give you a little.”
My stomach went rock hard as I bellowed. “Lou? I’m here. What the fuck are you doing, Candace?”
Candace held tight to the door handle. “Now, Buck. This is none of your business. Get on home.”
A muffled cry came through the door, followed by a solid thump.
“I’m not going anywhere without Lou.”
Candace turned as I approached.
She put up her fists, as though she could stop me from getting to Lou. “You get on outta here. This is family business.”
“Lou is my family. Get out of the way, or I swear to God Almighty, I’ll move your ass.”
“Now, Buck—”
I’d never laid my hands on a woman in anger, but it wasn’t anger driving me—it was fear. I took hold of Candace’s shoulders, picking her up and shoving her aside.
I tried the handle on the door, but it was locked. With one kick it was open. Some dude had Lou at the foot of the bed, a towel crumpled at his feet. He held her face down into the mattress, his hand working his belt buckle loose.
Something primal rose from deep in my gut and pushed out a roar as I grabbed the asshole who was hurting my girl.
I had him on the floor, one fist holding his shirt collar, the other connecting with his face, his throat, his ear, wherever I could make contact. I pulled him up between punches only to crack his head against the fake hardwood with the next one. He pushed at me, his legs flailing behind me. But fury flowed through my limbs, and there was no letting go. Not as long as I had breath in my over tight lungs.