At Peace Page 115


I closed my eyes. His hand curled around the back of my neck and I still didn’t open them.

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t work, he jacks you around, you know where I live.”

He’d made his decision and, as usual with Mike, it was the right one.

My eyes opened and looked into his.

“I jacked you around,” I whispered.

“I knew what I was gettin’ into.”

“Mike –”

“Honey, a shot at you, it was worth it.”

“Don’t be nice.”

“You want me to get pissed? Be a dick?”

“I think it’d be easier,” I said truthfully.

“Can’t do that, Vi.” His hand gave me a squeeze and he let me go, leaning back into his legs but looking at me the entire time. “You were in deep with him, he was with you. Signals were all there and you told me as straight as you could. Before I even took you on our first date, I knew it by the way he looked at me the night I met you at J&J’s. I still took my shot.” He grinned. “Do it again, just for last night.”

I shook my head and felt my mouth curve softly.

Then I felt my small smile die and I lifted my feet up to the step and bent into my legs, my cheek to my hand, my neck twisted to look at him.

“I liked bein’ with you,” I whispered and I felt the tears hit my eyes.

His hand came back to me, pulling my hair from the side of my face and then staying wrapped around my head.

“I liked bein’ with you,” he returned.

The wetness fell, I felt it slide over the bridge of my nose, along my temple and I whispered “I liked it a lot, Mike.”

His hand tensed in my hair and he whispered back, “Sweetheart, you’re killin’ me.”

“I wish –” I began.

“Don’t, honey,” he cut me off.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He squeezed my head gently again then his hand went away. He got up and took my hand. I lifted up my torso and he pulled me off the step, walking me through his lawn to my Mustang. He stood with me at the door and his hands came to my jaws, pulling me up to my toes so he could touch his mouth to mine.

He kept his hands at my jaws when he told me, “He promised me, I stand down, he’d give you everything.”

My heart flipped over.

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Mike nodded then his hands tightened on my jaws. “He doesn’t, Vi, you come to me and I’ll give it to you.”

I closed my eyes and nodded but I knew, that happened, someone would have Mike. He wouldn’t be available for long. This was my only shot.

His thumb slid through the wetness on my cheek, the tears still sliding silently from my eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Mike called and I opened my eyes. “You won’t be comin’ to me. Man I talked to today would move heaven and earth to give everything to you.”

“Mike –”

“Didn’t think that, no f**kin’ way I’d stand down.”

“Mike –”

His lips touched mine again and when his head lifted, he whispered, “Be happy, honey.”

I nodded and whispered back, “You too, Mike.”

He smiled and it was the first time he smiled at me in the hundreds he’d given me that it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said and he let me go.

I got in my car, started it up and drove away.

Stupidly, I looked back in my rearview mirror.

He was pulling his car into his garage.

Life goes on.

Shit.

* * * * *

Cal was putting the beer in the fridge when he heard Violet turn in the drive.

He pulled one free of the cardboard, closed the fridge, twisted off the cap and turned to flick the cap in her trash but he saw her trash had a lid. He got close to it, his hand moving toward it, a sensor caught the movement and the lid lifted open. He stared at it then tossed his cap in. Sensing he was done, the trash bin closed.

“Fuck,” he whispered, grinning.

Living with Vi was going to be an experience.

Then he realized she hadn’t come in even though he’d heard her cut her engine.

He turned and looked out the window to see her standing in her open door, immobile, staring at his truck in her drive.

He decided to give her time. If she didn’t come unstuck in twenty, thirty minutes, he’d go out and get her.

He moved to the counter opposite the sink, pulled himself up on it and took a drink of his beer, watching her staring at his truck.

She finally moved out of the car door, closed it and turned to the house. Mooch greeted her at the door. She dumped her purse on the counter with a glance at Cal, bent to pick up the dog and brought him up in her arms, close to her face so the dog licked her jaw as he squirmed in her arms and she tried to give him scratches.

She limped into the kitchen and asked, “You let him out?”

“Yeah.”

“He do any business?”

“No.”

“I’ll let him out.”

Then she limped out of the kitchen and to the back sliding glass door.

Cal sat on the counter and took another pull of beer. While he drank, he heard her shouting at Mooch mostly just teasing and playful then calling him encouragingly which meant she wanted to come in and then dog and woman came back into the house. The sliding glass door closed and Cal saw Mooch first because the dog came bouncing into the kitchen then tried to jump up Cal’s legs.

Vi strolled in seconds later and walked straight to the fridge without looking at him, opened it and gazed inside.

“You have dinner?” she asked the fridge.

“Thought we’d go out.”

Her body jolted and only her head turned to him.

“What?” she breathed.

“Out. To Frank’s. Or get a pizza from Reggie’s.”

“Frank’s,” she said.

“You hungry?” he asked.

She nodded.

He jumped off the counter. “Let’s go.”

She closed the fridge, muttering, “I’ll put Mooch in his box.”

Cal dropped his beer hand after taking a pull and said, “Got ‘im.”

Then he put the beer on the counter, walked out of the kitchen, put the dog in the box and she was standing at the door with the alarm remote and her keys in her hands when he got back.

He took them both out of her hands, opened the door, put a hand to her hip, shoved her out the door, locked it and then guided her to his truck, arming the alarm with the remote as they moved.

They both got in and were on their way when he spoke.

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