Shaw scowled. “Did you steal that car you were in when they busted you?”
Ben shook his head.
“Your friend wanted to grab a quick lunch with you. When you made a comment about his nice car, he said…” Shaw frowned before he resumed signing, choosing to fingerspell his next few words. “He said he had p-i-c-k-e-d i-t u-p.” Shaw rolled his eyes as he signed the phrase Ben’s friend had said on that day Ben wished he could do over. “Did you know he meant he had just stolen it?”
Ben shook his head. He hadn’t known his so-called friend was committing a crime at the time. “I shouldn’t have gotten into that car in the first place.”
It was Shaw’s turn to sigh. “You trusted him. It’s one of the things about you that makes you you. You wanted to believe he had changed.”
He nodded. In the end, he had been lucky his ex-friend had been careless enough to be caught on surveillance stealing the car. Alone. Otherwise, things could have been much worse. “My sister hasn’t responded to my text messages yet.” Yet. He was holding on to a tiny bit of hope that she would still reply, even though he suspected she had given up on him.
Shaw sat back on the bench and stared off into the backyard for a few moments before he resumed signing. A sour expression twisted his features, almost as if a memory had crossed his mind he wished hadn’t. “Blood family can be tricky. I consider my family to be the one I’ve built over the years.” A half smile pulled the corner of his mouth. “And you’re part of that circle. You’re like the kid brother I never had.”
Hope fluttered in Ben’s stomach and kicked up his heartbeat.
“Maybe it was that pervy stare thing you used to do whenever Dray stopped by.”
Ben’s cheeks burned. He remembered following Shaw around the house and being consumed with stealing peeks whenever Drayton visited his partner. There was something magnetic about their relationship that awakened Ben’s curiosity, and Shaw had busted him for staring far too many times for him to explain it away.
“Or maybe it was that zombie bunny you carried around all the time that freaked me out and threatened to haunt me.”
Ben gave him a sad smile. “I lost Bunny.”
“No, you didn’t. He’s still here,” Shaw said, pointing to Ben’s chest.
There were so many memories tied into that beaten stuffed animal—a gift his sister had given him after their father had died. That plush rabbit had been there for him on those nights when he missed his dad most. Years later, after his mom’s death and with no other living family, he and his sister had been put into the system, separated since most foster homes declined taking charge of both a grief-stricken child who was deaf and a rebellious teenage girl. During all those years, Bunny had been his one constant. It was silly how much comfort that worn stuffed animal had provided during his darkest times. Few would have seen past the worn stitching and ripped ear. They would have pitched the stuffed bunny aside rather than sew him back together the way Shaw had done all those years ago.
“I always thought you were different. Something like…” Shaw’s expression pinched as if trying to find the right word. “I-n-n-o-c-e-n-c-e,” he finally spelled out.
Ben quirked a brow.
“I don’t know what other word fits.” Shaw shrugged. “You’re trusting and kind-hearted. And that’s a big part of who you are. Don’t let your time inside take that from you.”
“How do I do that?” He would give anything to find his way back to being the guy from a few years ago.
“You don’t do it alone.” Shaw slung his arm around Ben’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug.
Ben wrapped his arms around Shaw and screwed his eyes shut. He desperately pulled him closer, thankful his friend hadn’t pitched him aside the way others had so many times before.
Ben sat on the couch and wrung his hands, waiting for the other two residents due to arrive at any moment. His thoughts cycled through different scenarios, wondering what they would think of him. The black eye wouldn’t help that first impression, but hopefully they could see beyond it to the man beneath the bruise.
Staring up at the wall-mounted clock, he willed time to move faster.
A tap on his shoulder had him jolting up from the couch. “They’re here,” Matt signed.
Blowing out a nervous breath, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans to still them when Matt returned with two guys in tow.
Ben smiled and waved a quick greeting.
“This is David and Calvin,” Matt signed as he pointed to each man with their introduction. “This is Ben. He’ll be staying with us for a little while.”
Calvin’s short auburn hair tended more toward dark brown except when the light hit it just right—the hint of red enough to complement the slight ruddiness of his skin. He was about six feet tall and had muscle mass destined to intimidate. But there was something about him that hadn’t raised any warning flags in Ben’s mind.
David wore black slacks and a black buttoned-up shirt, obviously a work uniform based on the embroidery on his chest. With his dark hair and eyes, average build and frame, David could easily blend into a crowd.
“What are you doing with your hands?” David asked.
“Sign language. Ben is deaf but he can read lips. When you speak to him, please face him so he understands.”
David slowly tilted his head toward Ben while Calvin stared at him, dumbstruck.
“Nice to meet you,” Calvin said, his lips moving slowly. He glanced over to Matt, as if listening to something he had said, then returned his attention to Ben. “So…I just talk like I usually do and you can understand me? Without the sign language?”
Ben nodded and smiled, thankful Calvin wasn’t a mumbler or fast talker. He withdrew the phone from his back pocket and typed out a quick message on his phone app that created large text notes on the screen. Turning the phone to face his new housemate, he waited for him to read his message.
“Lipreading isn’t perfect, but I have enough practice to catch most of the conversation. Texting and writing stuff down works too,” Calvin read out loud. He pursed his lips and nodded, as if digesting the bits of information. “Cool.”
A sigh of relief escaped Ben. He didn’t want to be in the man’s crosshairs. He didn’t like the idea of being in anyone’s crosshairs. Especially not one of his housemates. He glanced over at David. A chill traveled up his spine as those coal-colored eyes swept every inch of his body. The man’s tongue snaked out between his parted lips, then swiped across his upper lip. “It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke slowly, his gaze skipping to Ben’s face, his features, and down his torso.
Ben stared, his mouth suddenly dry as the hairs at the back of his neck rose in warning.
“Do you speak?” David asked, his eyes sparking with something dark Ben didn’t want to dwell on.
He slowly shook his head, his pulse kicking up a few extra beats and his stomach somersaulting.
A smile curled the corner of David’s mouth. “I bet you scream.”
Ben’s eyebrows twitched. A handful of words that should have been easy to read, if it weren’t for the jittery nerves always making him second-guess his skills. But the gleam in David’s eyes, the wickedness of that twist of his mouth into a smirk… No, he hadn’t misread the words.