Under Locke(38)

Dex took a handful of straws out of his pocket, covering them with his hand as he arranged, and then presented them to me. “Ladies first.”



I couldn’t help but glance up at his dark blue eyes for a split second before I pulled a straw right in the middle of the four. Dex went ahead and held out the collection to Blue next before letting Blake and Slim grab the last pieces.



“Wait a sec, you okay sharin’ a room?”



“Sharing a room with you guys?” I repeated the question right back to him, to make sure I understood correctly.



“Yeah, sharin’ a room. You okay with that?” he asked.



I looked over at the three men I worked with slowly. “No one’s going to tattoo a peen on my forehead when I’m sleeping, right?”



They all looked at me straight for a minute before starting to laugh, even Blue, who only laughed at me when I said something exceptionally stupid.



“I’ll take that as a no,” I shot Slim a nasty look. “In that case, no, I don’t care.” Though I’d prefer it not be Dex, I wasn’t going to say that out loud. “As long as you don’t do gross stuff in the shower, I’m fine.”



Slim snorted. “Blake, that’s all you man.”



“I told you I didn’t do it,” he retorted, his face reddening as the words flew out of his mouth.



“Right. You didn’t do it when you were the only one who took a shower that morning—“



Dex cleared his throat, biting back a smile. “Okay, okay, let’s see who the hell is goin’ before we argue over who jacked off in Seattle.”



That was my cue to laugh. By myself. Awkward!



After comparing straws, it looked like Blue and I were the losers with the short ones. Based on the looks we shot each other—she wasn’t much of a talker and I liked to make facial expressions that she seemed to understand—neither one of us was too heartbroken.



“Feel free to do whatever the heck you want to do in the shower since I’m not going,” I blurted out, already taking a step back to head into the kitchen. My book and lunch were calling my name.



Blake’s eyes cut over to Slim’s accusingly. “I didn’t fucking do it, man!”



Right.



~ * ~ *



"Someone left a voicemail for you, kid," Sonny noted, his gaze locked on the epic gun battle going on in the television screen.



I'd just come in from work, dropping my purse onto the couch that I'd rightfully claimed over the course of the last month and let myself get excited for a brief moment. "Who?"



He made a humming noise in his throat. "Umm, someone named Gladys or something from a place with a stupid name. There were a bunch of Rugrats screaming in the background."



It had to be one of the daycare centers I'd applied to.



"Yes!"



Two minutes later, I'd written down Gladys Ortega's phone number and high-fived Sonny for finally getting a callback.



"I don't get why you're so excited. The idea of working with a bunch of kids sounds like hell," he murmured.



The last time I'd worked at a daycare center, I'd been twenty and fresh out of radiation therapy. At that point, nothing could have brought me down. But now that I really thought about it...crap. I liked kids but did I like them that much? The better question was, did I dislike Dex enough to sacrifice one moody devil for a bunch of innocent demons?



The answer didn’t come as easily as I would have expected.



"I can just see what they have to offer."



He shrugged and it made me narrow my eyes.



I didn't understand what was going on with him, but every time I asked, he always answered the same way.



He was fine. Always fine.



And he was completely full of shit.



"What's wrong with you?"



For the last two days, Sonny had been acting really erratic. One of the most laid-back people I'd ever met in my life, he wasn't the type to sit back and let things bother him. He was an advocate of either ignoring things or dealing with them head on. Preferably with his fists it seemed, when he came home two nights ago with a busted lip and refused to tell me what happened.



I made sure he was okay, and then changed the subject. The problem was, he was still acting weird. Something was bothering him and it was nipping at him, over and over again. He still smiled but it was shadowed and guarded.



I finally had it though. Only one of us could be a moody shit, and that would be me.



"What's wrong?" I asked him again when he didn't answer.



Those hazel-brown eyes slid over to me, a small smile lifting up one corner of his mouth but it didn't do anything. My beloved half-brother was missing. "I'm fine, kid."