“I’m telling you all this because my past is so gross and sordid that nothing you could have ever done would have ever turned me off. So what if you slept with fifteen or fifty guys? It doesn’t define you.”
“If you think that about me, then why can’t you cut yourself slack?” I cried.
“Because I can’t unsee all the shitty things I’ve done. Just sitting here looking at that house,” Bo spit out the word “house” like an expletive, “only serves to remind me what an asshole I was. And still am. Do you know that I’ve not called my mom once since I left? That I’ve ignored her attempts to contact me? I just wanted to forget all of this.” Bo threw up an arm over his eyes, as if he was trying to block out that mental image of him doing whatever unsavory acts he now despised. “Maybe I’m not supposed to be with someone like you.”
“I think that’s kind of a shitty thing to say.” It sounded like he was trying to ditch me again. “You’re going to decide for me what’s best?”
“What?” Bo dropped his arm and faced me for the first time. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m trying to warn you off.”
“You’re saying that you shouldn’t be with me because you aren’t good enough for me, but that’s like saying that I’m too dumb to make decisions for myself. Don’t I get to decide what’s good enough for me?”
“Yes, but—”
“You’d best be quiet now before you dig yourself a deeper hole,” I huffed.
Bo stared at me, slightly open-mouthed, then burst out into laughter. “Goddamn, AM. How’d I ever get so lucky to find you?”
“You must’ve done something right,” I sassed. Somehow I knew that Bo needed me to show no sympathy, no pity, even though inside my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces for the confused and traumatized boy he’d been. I wished I were a mythical Norse creature so I could hurt Bo’s father, as if that would somehow make up for the horror of his childhood.
“Am I feeling sorry for myself?” Bo asked, a rueful smile playing around the edges of his mouth.
“Yes, and if you act like this any more, I’m going to start calling you Edward.”
“Wow, is that the insult we’re using instead of pussy?”
“It’s the male version. Essentially, the same thing. Now put this car in gear, and let’s get this over with.”
BEAUREGARD RANDOLPH II WAS THE same height as Bo. Had the same hair, although his was longer, shaggier than Bo’s, like he hadn’t had a haircut, a decent one, in years. And even though they were clearly stamped from the same cloth, this man looked smaller. His shoulders were rolled slightly forward, making him look shorter. He shuffled down the hallway, whereas Bo always strode.
The house itself smelled of rotten food and disuse. Flies buzzed around the rooms, alighting on what looked like old spills on tables and counters. The sun that shone in through the big windows at the back was hazy, the dust so thick that it created a fog inside the house.
We followed Bobby back to the kitchen, a large room dominated by a huge center island. At one time, this place would looked like it belonged in a magazine. The counters were made of marble and the appliances were industrial-grade stainless steel. The setup showed signs of serious money, but the counters were filled with unwashed dishes. The flies that had buzzed around the front living areas were more plentiful here and the smell worse. I pretended to be unaffected, but I tried not to touch anything.
The look on Bo’s face had changed from stoic indifference to shock. Obviously he’d never seen it like this either.
“Sit down, sit down.” Bobby Randolph gestured toward the table. I sat down gingerly on a chair but kept my arms tucked close to my sides to avoid touching something and contracting a disease. Bobby took out the chair next to me and sat too close. Bo stood like an angry Thor by my side, ready to smite Bobby for any wrong move. His muscles tensed when Bobby leaned forward.
“You’re a hot—” Bobby’s voice cut off when Bo let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. I leaned back so my head was resting against his thighs. Bo placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned forward.
“This is my girl, Bobby, and you treat her with respect or we’re out of here. Now why don’t you tell me why this place looks like it’s been abandoned for months. It smells rank and looks twice as bad.”
Bobby sat up and tried to bluster. “You aren’t showing me much respect, soldier.”
“I was a Marine, old man. Answer the question.” Bo had never appeared more commanding and in control, but his hand bit into my shoulder hard, so hard it kind of hurt, but I would never, ever let on. At the direct command, Bobby deflated like a popped balloon.