The Cut(32)

Her heart melted. He always seemed to know how she felt without her  having to tell him. "Okay." She unlocked the front door and pushed it  open. Looking over her shoulder, she called out to Gypsy. "Are you  coming in?"

He shook his head. "Not this time. You go ahead."

Smiling, she stepped inside. "Oh," she gasped.

"What do you see?" Stake prompted.

"A staircase at the back of the entryway. It goes up about ten steps and  there's a small landing before it makes a ninety-degree turn and  continues. I'd like to put a plant there because there's a window right  above the landing."

Stake chuckled. "Okay, babe. What else?"

She turned to her right and peeked into what appeared to be a formal  dining room. "A dining room with horrible wallpaper, but it has molding  around the top. It's pretty." She walked through the dining room to the  kitchen. "Oh, Stake, the kitchen is huge, and there's a big old table  that would probably seat ten people." She ran her hand over the table.  It had to have been built in the room because there was no way it would  have fit through the doorway. "It needs to be sanded, but I can do  that."

"What about the rest of the kitchen? From the pictures, it looked like it would need some work."

"The cabinets appear to be solid wood, so they can easily be stripped  and stained or repainted." She opened one of the cupboards to see how  deep they were and screamed.

"What's going on?" Stake asked, his voice full of worry.

"Sorry. It's okay. Just a dead rat." She heard the front screen door bang shut moments before Gypsy came running into the room.         

     



 

"Are you okay?" Gypsy asked.

She nodded and pointed to the decomposing houseguest. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't expecting it."

"Gypsy?" Stake asked.

"Yeah." She felt her face flush. "I think I scared him more than I did you."

"I doubt it," Stake grumbled.

She was surprised by his reaction. "Is everything okay there?" she asked.

"You're not here. Of course, everything isn't okay," he practically growled.

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that he was the one who'd  sent her away. Her good mood from earlier began to dissipate. The line  was quiet while she watched Gypsy use a piece of cardboard to remove the  rat.

"Are you alone?" Stake asked.

"No," she answered.

"Find the master bedroom," he instructed. "I'll wait."

"Bedrooms?" she asked Gypsy.

"Three up and one down," he informed her, pointing to a short hallway  off the kitchen. "The one down is right through there, but it's small  and doesn't have an attached bathroom."

"And the master?" she asked.

Gypsy shook his head. "It doesn't really have one. The three rooms  upstairs are all roughly the same size and share a single bathroom."

With the phone still pressed to her ear, she followed Gypsy's directions  to the first floor bedroom. She was surprised at its size although the  proximity to the kitchen wasn't ideal. "For now, I think we should use  the downstairs bedroom for us. That way, we can shut off the upstairs.  Once we have children, we can move up there to be close to them."

"Kids?" Stake questioned.

She silently cursed herself. Stake had never mentioned getting married  or having a family. "Well, you know, if we eventually decide to have  them."

"Maybe," he answered. "Whatever you decide is fine."

She wasn't sure if he was referring to the bedroom situation or the  children, but she let it go. She opened the small closet and noticed  further evidence of vermin. "I think we'll need an exterminator."

"Have Gypsy set it up," Stake ordered, his voice still gruff.

She finished the rest of the tour with less enthusiasm. "Well, that's it," she said as she walked back out to the porch.

"Is it the house you want?" he asked.

"It's the house of my dreams," she answered honestly. "But, I'll be happy anywhere as long as you're with me."

"I need to go, but tell Gypsy to call me after he drops you off."

"I will." She was still kicking herself for mentioning children. Had she ruined everything?

"I miss you," he said.

The warmer tone to his voice helped soothe her racing heart. "I miss you, too."

"Call me before you go to bed tonight," he ordered.

"I will." She hung up and clutched the phone to her chest.

"Everything okay?" Gypsy asked.

"I don't know. I hope so." She held up her phone. "He wants you to call him after you drop me off."

Gypsy's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her. "Okay."



By the time his phone rang, Stake was in a foul mood. The conversation  with Santana earlier had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Gypsy's overt  display of concern for her had really pissed him off which didn't make  sense since he'd been the one to ask Gypsy to care for her. His anger  went beyond normal jealousy. It felt like he'd ripped out his heart and  had handed it over to another man. Once Gypsy had pulled out of the  drive with Santana beside him, it had taken everything Stake had not to  get on his bike and chase them down. Santana's place was beside him not  Gypsy. Santana's mention of having children had totally knocked him on  his ass.

He had no doubt Santana would make a good mother, but he was a selfish  bastard who'd waited too long to have her. Sharing her with rugrats  didn't set well for some reason. He'd heard the stories from his  brothers on how their wives had changed after giving birth. He liked  having Santana ready and willing to fuck anytime he asked and wasn't  about to give that up without a fight. Besides, he didn't think he had  it in him to be a good father, and he'd lived a life of subpar  parenting. How the hell could he willingly take a job like that on,  especially knowing how fucked up his own childhood had been? Yeah, he  was definitely a selfish prick.

He dug the phone out of his pocket. "Hey," he answered.

"What's up?" Gypsy asked.         

     



 

"See if you can fax the paperwork on the house to the club. Cecil's  called a meeting later, so I'll swing by the club early and have plenty  of time to get the paperwork signed and sent back before church."

"All right." Gypsy sighed. "Mind telling me what you said to Santana over the phone that upset her?"

"Don't fuckin' worry about what I said to my woman. We're good." Once  again, Stake was second guessing his decision to send Santana to  Arkansas without him. Gypsy was almost as bad as Iggy when it came to  sex. How many times had he watched Gypsy pick up a stranger in a bar and  fuck her against the wall within five minutes of meeting her? Not that  he hadn't had his share of quick fucks, but Gypsy seemed to need it  every motherfucking day whether he had a girlfriend or not.

"I am going to worry about it. She walked into that house with the  biggest smile I've seen out of her yet and came out looking like she'd  been kicked. She didn't say a goddamn word on the drive back to the  motel."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going. I asked you to watch over her,  not crawl up her fuckin' ass. If you need pussy, get it from somewhere  else." Stake gripped the phone so hard he was surprised the damn glass  didn't shatter in the thing.

"You sonofabitch!" Gypsy growled. "When I came down to Texas to pick her  up, I couldn't fucking believe you'd twisted yourself up so much over a  fucking cunt, but after spending hours with her alone in the truck, I  got it. Now, I'm wondering why the fuck she'd do the same thing over a  bastard like you."

"Fuck you," Stake spat. "She's my fuckin' life, and I'm not about to  lose her to you." He was seconds away from jumping on his bike and going  to Santana when he heard Gypsy's laughter. "What the fuck's so funny?"

"You," Gypsy replied. "You're so goddamn jealous, you don't even trust her."

"I trust her," Stake argued.

"Evidently not, or you wouldn't be afraid of me making a move on her,  which I would totally do if I didn't care about you, asshole. But I do  care, and I wouldn't do something like that."

"Just send the fuckin' papers." Stake hung up before he said something else he'd regret.



Santana picked at her salad. She was grateful Gypsy had come back into  town to take her to dinner, but she wasn't good company. "Did the  realtor say how long it would take?" she asked, searching for something  to say.

"Two weeks minimum. You have to have an inspection, and then there's all  the bank paperwork." He shrugged. "Takes a while." He ate another bite  of his burger. "The repairs to the house will probably take another  week, at least. Will you be okay in the motel that long? I'd offer you  my spare bedroom, but I think Stake might slit my throat for that."