Whatcha lookin’ for? Deer season’s about over, but you can still get coon and possum. Squirrel too.”
Nick made a face. “I was hoping for deer. Maybe if I’m on the ball, I can still bag one. Where would you go, for a good long gun?”
“Walmart has ’em, but y’know, it’s Walmart. They carry the cheap shit.” The guy made a face. Nick figured anyone running a small independent store wouldn’t be a fan of Walmart. “If you want something good, you could try Fredrick’s Sporting Goods, in Chapel Hill. Or closer to here, there’s the Grand Outdoor Store off County Thirty.”
“Does one of them have a range? I like trying out what I buy.”
“Grand does.”
Nick nodded, aware that at least a couple of customers and another employee were listening in. Being the new guy in town meant drawing attention. Which was good for his current purposes. “Might try there. Not today, though.” He hefted the bag in his hand. “Peeling paint’s calling my name.”
“Deer season’s about to end on the second. Gives you five days. Y’need a license too.”
“Fuck. Yeah. Maybe I’ll get a smaller gun now and go for deer next year.” He headed out, hearing a soft murmur behind him. Seeds planted. He turned away from County Thirty and drove home, whistling.
Chapter 16
Brian glanced around the local bar as he waited for Nick to come back with their refills. It was far from the worst place he’d ever hung out. In a weird way, it made him remember those bad old days of sitting silent, watching Nick be Nok Nick, loud and wild and shining and distant. Before. It wasn’t the way he’d planned to spend his New Year’s Eve, but Charlie had called to say he and Lori both were heading to bed early with a cold. When Nick had floated the idea of going out, he’d said yes.
Now he was wondering why. Why did Nick ask? Why did I agree?
At the bar, Nick paused, holding two bottles by their necks, to say something to the guy next to him. They laughed. It wasn’t Nick’s warm friendly laugh, it was Nok Nick’s reckless one. What’s he up to? It was deeply unsettling to realize he didn’t know what Nick was doing here. Is he tired of just hanging out with me? It’s sure not an exciting life. I’m happy, but what if Nick isn’t?
He picked up his empty mug for something to do, pretending to drain the last drop of cider from the bottom. On the TV over the bar, some kind of band was playing at an outdoor concert. It was snowing there, although here, the temperature was hovering above freezing, with a cold mist in the air. I wonder what Damon’s doing right now?
He licked the inside rim of his mug slowly, swiping the drops with his tongue. A woman at the next table caught his eye. She was staring at him with distaste. He grimaced and set the glass down. That was a Bry thing— a way to kill time while keeping people at a distance. His past and present were too close together tonight.
Nick came back, set the taller bottle in front of Brian, and dropped into his chair. He ran the amber beer down the side of his mug so it barely foamed. “The bartender says live music starts in ten minutes.”
Brian tried for a dry adult voice. “In a small southern country bar, is that a good thing?”
Instead of grinning, Nick flinched and looked over his shoulder. “Let’s give them a shot, okay?”
“Do you know someone in the band?” They were setting up in the corner. The two guys were middle-aged and ordinary, in single-color shirts and loose-fitting jeans, and the girl had a tight dress and spike heels. None of them looked like Nick’s type. What do I know about Nick’s type? No one looking at this table would pick him out as Nick’s date either. He lifted the bottle to his lips without bothering with the mug and sucked down a long, sour swallow.
“No, but they’re kind of big locally. I’m fitting in.” Nick pitched his voice low and private.
Why? He didn’t ask, but when they got home, he was sure going to. He was done with the days of being the dumb white potato on the side of someone else’s plans. “Are we staying till midnight?” He tried to sound casual, but under the table he dug his fingers into Nick’s knee. He’d never, ever had someone to