Bounty (Page 41)

His arms tightened.

“I miss him,” I whispered into Deke’s chest through a hitch.

The words with that hitch barely sounded before I felt Deke’s hand glide up my spine and tangle in my hair.

“Get it out, Jussy,” he murmured, his words stirring the strands at the top of my head so I knew he was bent to me.

Deke.

Fuck me, Deke.

“My brother’s a p-p-piece of shit,” I pushed out through the tears.

Deke’s arm around me got tighter and the tips of fingers started stroking the side of my ribs.

Even this did not make me feel better. In fact this—all that was Deke enveloping all that was me—made it better at the same time so much worse.

“He’s contesting the…the will,” I shared.

Deke said nothing.

I kept crying.

It came to me slowly that I was pressed hard to him and had my hands clenched into his tee at the back. I felt the damp material against my cheek and knew how many tears had leaked and that Deke took them from me.

I also knew he was being cool, a nice guy, because that was who he was.

But I couldn’t let this go on.

So I pulled my shit together, unclenched my hands and smoothed the shirt before I dropped them to his waist and tipped my head back.

“Sorry.”

Lamentably, he took my cue and let me go.

Incredibly, he didn’t do this completely.

He put his hands on either side of my neck and bent close so his face was a couple of inches from mine.

“Think, from what you’ve told me, you get that times get bad. Hope, Jussy, you also get that those times pass. Whatever’s happening, this will pass.”

Jussy.

Shit.

I nodded because that was all I could do.

“Sorry, I…well, your shirt’s all wet,” I said, taking one hand from him to wipe my face.

“It’ll dry.”

I nodded again.

His fingers curled around my neck gave me a gentle squeeze.

“You good?”

I was not.

I gave him another nod anyway.

His eyes moved over my face and I knew he knew that nod was an inaudible lie but he didn’t call me on it.

He just said quietly, “Good,” gave me another squeeze and dropped his left hand.

But with his right, he lifted it up and I held my breath because I thought he was going to touch my face, dry a tear, something.

Instead, he raised it to the top of my head and tousled my hair before he gave me another close look, turned and walked away.

Shit, Deke comforted me then tousled my hair like I was his little sister.

Shit.

I didn’t like that.

But it was kind and it was sweet and it came from Deke.

So as was becoming my lot, I’d take it.

* * * * *

Deke

He had a screw loose, he knew it and fuck him, he couldn’t stop himself.

This was why, the evening the day after Jus got that call that set her off (and he kept a close eye on her yesterday afternoon and all that day, saw she’d pulled it together enough to fake it, but she couldn’t hide something haunted her eyes), Deke was in his truck on his way to her place.

He’d left work there, gone home, showered, changed, hit the grocery store, and as night was quickly falling, he was heading back.

It was whacked. It was stupid.

And it was dangerous.

With all of that, the fact remained she wasn’t sharing and she also wasn’t hiding that shit in her life was clearly extreme. She’d lost her dad. Her brother was being a dick. And something was going on with a woman she called Joss. Deke had no idea what it was but he heard Jus’s voice raise on the deck even if he didn’t hear what she said and then he’d watched her through the windows, knowing by the line of her body she was agitated.

Fuck, every phone call she got set something off in her or sounded fucked.

But Jus, she pulled it together and faked it as best she could.

She was new in Carnal. As far as he could tell, she had no one close. And the one she should have should not be him.

He still had a brown paper bag filled with hot dogs, buns, condiments, a tub of macaroni salad, a big bag of chips and the makings of s’mores. Next to that bag he had a six-pack of cold beer. He’d also tagged a bunch of wire hangers from his closet. And he’d brought his wire cutters.

Now he was heading to her place because he was a dumbfuck.

It wasn’t early. It was getting late.

Maybe she wouldn’t be there.

This would be good.

Maybe if she was there, she’d eaten.

If she had, he’d eat, he’d listen if she talked and she could drink beer while he gave her someone to be with, such a fucking moron, not able to cope with thinking of her in that fucked-up house all alone with shit bearing down on her that was extreme.

Oh yeah, fuck yeah, he had a screw loose.

“Shit,” he muttered, rolling up to her house and seeing her granddad’s truck there.

She was home.

“Fuck,” he sighed.

But he didn’t turn around. He didn’t leave. He parked, got out, moved around the truck and got the shit.

She’d heard his approach and he knew this because the door was open and she was standing in it by the time he started walking to it.

“Is everything…uh, what’s going on?” she called.

He didn’t answer and stopped in front of her, feeling his mouth tighten.

Sun almost gone, the space behind her was dark.

The next day, he needed to finish some outlets. Get her some light in that area. It was dangerous, her moving around that space in the dark.

And Max had told him that she’d contracted with some man the name of Callahan, a hotshot in the security business, probably the kind of guy only people like Jus could afford. This he knew because Max told him she was flying Callahan in in a couple of weeks to install her security system.