Play It Safe

When he sounded sleepy-growly like that, it was one of the few times I wished he wasn’t g*y.

I saw the phone in front of me and, sleepy myself, I took it without hesitation.

Then I put it to my ear and greeted, “Hello?”

“Ivey?”

My heart stopped beating.

Gray.

It was Gray.

I shot up to my forearm and asked, “Gray?”

“Yeah.”

Oh God.

I felt Lash’s chest press to my back.

“Gray, what –?”

“Know Janie called you. Don’t want your money. Stay out of it.”

My heart started beating again but fast.

“Gray –” I began.

“Don’t want your f**kin’ money, Ivey. Stay the f**k out of it.”

My temper started rising.

“Gray, it isn’t –”

He cut me off again. “Fucked, Janie phonin’ you. Totally f**ked. I do not need this bullshit and I do not want your money. Stay out of it.”

My temper shot to the stratosphere.

He wanted to be a macho man rancher cowboy without a ranch or horses, fine. Pride goeth before the fall.

Whatever.

His problem.

Not mine.

Not mine.

“Fine,” I snapped.

“Fine,” Gray clipped back.

I wasn’t done.

“And, do me a favor, you want me out of it and everyone wants me out of Mustang, keep Mustang away from me.”

“Not a problem, Ivey. Janie won’t be phonin’ you again,” Gray assured me.

“I’m not talking about Janie. I’m talking about Buddy.”

Silence then, “What?”

“Buddy,” I hissed. “He showed at the club last night, got in my face, threatened me, told me to keep my nose out of it just like you just did. Except, even though your voice isn’t filled with peaches and cream right now, he was a lot less nice about it and his meaning was clear. So clear, I had to have him forcibly removed from the club. So, Gray, you want me out of it, keep me out of it not only with you and Janie but also that hideous troll. I don’t need his kind in my life. Do you understand me?”

“Buddy came to your club?” Gray asked quietly.

“Yes. He came, got in my face and threatened me. And he was not joking. He meant it. I didn’t like it. If you want me out of your shit, keep your shit away from me.”

Gray was silent.

I wasn’t.

“Good luck, Gray. I hope you sort it out. Have a nice life.”

Then I beeped the phone off.

Then I threw it on the satin comforter.

Then I exploded, “God!”

“Babe?” Lash called, I shifted and flopped down on my back.

His eyes caught mine and his hand came up to cup my jaw.

“Babe,” he whispered.

I felt the tears wet my eyes and again I deep breathed.

“Oh my girl.” Lash kept whispering, handsome face soft, eyes warm and worried. I’d eventually told him about Janie’s call. This was our way. I eventually told him everything. He also knew about Buddy’s visit last night.

I went on deep breathing.

Then I got a lock on it.

“I’m okay,” I finally whispered back.

Lash’s head tipped to the side. “Sure?”

God, I loved him.

“Sure, honey.”

He studied me. Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. Then he settled back down and adjusted me so we were spooning again.

“Go back to sleep, babe, yeah?”

We were never home before two in the morning and we were never up before nine.

Lash was right, we needed sleep.

“Yeah,” I agreed softly.

Lash’s arm pulled me closer.

It took awhile, it was tough, too much happening in my head, too much worry gnawing my belly, too much artillery battering away at the walls around my heart.

But eventually I found sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Shot to the Heart

One day, four hours later…

The phone was ringing and I was in the sitting room, standing with Lash and his mother Rhonda, listening to them talking about how they were going to redecorate it (again). Lash had lived in his house five years and redecorated every room at least once. This would be the sitting room’s third look.

Seriously. How Rhonda didn’t cotton on her son was g*y, I had no idea.

“I’ll get it,” I mumbled, moved into Lash, leaned up and touched my mouth to his.

His hand came to my waist and gave me a squeeze.

This wasn’t fake. This was us. Affection. Pure.

Maybe that was how Rhonda didn’t cotton on. No one could see through that because there was nothing to see.

I walked out of the room, went to the phone, beeped it on and put it to my ear. “Hello.”

“Ivey?”

Shit. Janie.

“Hello, Janie.”

She was silent a second then, “I…I…oh, Ivey, I’m really sorry. I told Roan and Shim I called you. They had to know so they could find out what Gray needed but I forgot Roan has a big mouth. He told his wife Stacy, she owns the salon and her mouth is bigger. Word traveled. Got to Buddy, got to Gray. I had no idea Buddy would, he would…” she paused then went on, “do what he did. That wasn’t cool. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Not a problem, Janie, just as long as he doesn’t come back. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s, I think…” another pause then, “it was really nice how you wanted to step up for Gray but he talked to me and he was kind of…” again a pause then, “not happy.”

I bet.

She kept going.

“So, he’s going to do his thing and we need to stay out of it. But, again, it was really nice of you to want to kick in.”

So Gray was going to go forth and lose his land, lose everything.

Men.

Stupid.

I tried not to let that hurt but when I failed I tried to pretend it didn’t hurt.

I was better at that.

“Right, well, I hope he works it out,” I told her.

“No chance of that,” she muttered.

I didn’t want to, I really didn’t want to…

But I did.

And what I did was ask, “Sorry?”

“Movin’ Mirry out next month, Ivey. Gray can’t afford the home anymore. They’re puttin’ her in some state funded place. Never been there but I got a coupla customers had people in there. They say it isn’t all that nice. For her, seein’ as she’s in a wheelchair, they reckon it’ll be worse. Guess it’s not super clean and the staff isn’t all that attentive.”