Now I didn’t feel anything.
Or, at least, I told myself that.
I got her in the kitchen, whispered, “Be good. Be quiet. And stay.” She looked up at me with her sweet brown eyes and sat on her furry booty.
My Boss Lady.
I closed the door, shored up my defenses, and stood in my foyer with eyes to the front door.
Moments later, Deacon walked in, closing the door on the cold behind him.
Bossy heard him enter and barked, deep and resonant, no longer a puppy (well, still my puppy but mostly she was a dog).
Deacon’s eyes went to the kitchen door.
I shouted, “Be good, Bossy!”
She quit barking.
I launched in immediately and his gaze shot back to mine.
“I think you know there’s nothing to say. But since you’re here, I figure you think there is. In order not to upset Milagros, and get Manuel involved, you’re here. But now that she’s gone, I’d request that you be the same.”
“My wife is dead. She’s been dead for ten years.”
I fought falling back on a foot, his words feeling like blows, staring in his face, seeing nothing but believing every word he spoke.
But why hadn’t he told me that before?
“She died ugly. I didn’t protect her from it. I didn’t save her from it. I loved her. She died but she didn’t let go. I left you, I broke you, and my man Raid reamed my ass, but it didn’t penetrate.” He dug in his pocket, pulled his hand out, and it was sheer reflex that I lifted my hands to catch the flash drive he tossed my way. “That penetrated. You taught me to let it penetrate. Listen to that, Cassidy. I’ll be upstairs waiting.”
He’d be upstairs waiting? Was he high?
He walked my way.
He was high.
I moved quickly to bar the stairs.
He stopped in front of me.
“You’re going the wrong way,” I informed him. “You need to use the front door, Deacon, or I’ll call the cops, and we both know you don’t want that.”
“Don’t give a fuck you do, except that’ll prolong this and I wasted enough time.”
He didn’t care that I called the cops?
“Deacon—” I started.
“Listen to what’s on the drive, Cassidy.”
“I’m not listening to anything.”
“I listened to yours. A million fuckin’ times, I listened to it. You can give me once.”
He listened to mine.
A million times?