Today, the future we’d put on hold would have to be faced.
How would he respond to learning I’d been involved in a bank robbery?
I recalled the day at the Minimart when he’d warned me about the guy trying to get two beers out of the store without paying. He’d said it wasn’t right. Criminality never was. There was a big gap between sneaking a beer out of a store without paying and brandishing a gun in a bank robbery, particularly one where a teller got shot. What would he think of me?
Luke wasn’t one to tolerate breaking the law. He was the complete anti-Dom. Whereas Dom was an ex-con who couldn’t help but return to his old ways, Luke was the opposite, a Boy Scout taking care of others, instead of hurting them.
The house fire we’d come upon this past week proved that. Pitching in to help the firefighters was the last thing Dom would have done. Criminals like Dom were selfish at heart, not giving the way Luke was.
I think the thing Luke and I had most in common was the way we despised the criminal element. I’d finally found a truly good man.
I hugged him harder.
“You okay back there, Red?” he asked through the intercom.
I moved my hand down to rub his thigh. “Yeah. Just wishing we could’ve spent more than a week.”
“Me, too.”
His response warmed me. I wrapped my arms tighter around the one solid thing in my life: him.
We hadn’t been back at the house long when a knock sounded at the door.
I couldn’t help but flinch. “You expecting someone?” I asked more calmly than I felt.
“Not that I know of.” Luke let go of me and ambled toward the door.
I didn’t follow, but I controlled the fear that raced through me.
After looking through the glass, he turned to me. “Get in the kitchen while I get rid of this guy.”
I cringed. “It’s not…?”
“No. Of course not.” When I didn’t move, he added, “Kitchen now.”
I didn’t appreciate the Mr. Bossy tone, but retreated to the kitchen anyway.
“This is not a good time, Nesbit,” I heard him say after opening the door.
“It never is,” was the retort.
“What are you doing here? My appointment isn’t till one this afternoon.”
“The program is spot check anytime,” Nesbit countered. “Let’s go inside and check around. The sooner I get this out of the way, the sooner you can get back to whatever.”
I heard the door close, and Luke appeared in the family room, followed by Nesbit.
The short, rotund man held out a jar. “You know the drill, Carver.” Nesbit’s trousers had a stain on one leg, and his shirt hung out in the back.
Luke took the jar with a grimace and started to leave.
“No. Out here where I can see it’s yours,” Nesbit said.
“Give me a break,” Luke pleaded. “I’ve got company.”
Nesbit turned and noticed me watching from the kitchen. He nodded my way. “Okay,” he told Luke. “But it better be warm.”
Luke left for the hallway.
Already I didn’t like this Nesbit character, so I went to the fridge and pulled out a Diet Coke, which I popped open.
“And you would be?” Nesbit asked.
When I turned, he was in the doorway. His rudeness apparently knew no bounds. At this distance, his personal grooming habits looked even worse. The guy should wash his hair once in a while.
I had no desire to get any closer. “A friend of Luke’s.” I sipped from my can.
“And your name?”
“Debbie.”
Luke rushed back and shoved the jar at Nesbit. “Leave her alone.”
The jar’s contents were yellow. A urine sample?
I backed up.
“She’s just a friend who stopped by.”
Nesbit eyed me suspiciously. “What’s your last name, honey?”
Now I really didn’t like him.
“Don’t answer that,” Luke told me firmly before turning his scowl on Nesbit. “You have no right to hassle my guests. Now do your rounds and leave me alone.”
Instead of arguing, Nesbit moved to the cupboards, opening them and surveying the contents.
Luke took my elbow and pulled me to the family room. “You don’t have to say a thing to him.”
“Who the hell is he?” I whispered.
Nesbit appeared again and nodded toward my leg. “Did he give you that bruise?”
I looked down at the old bruise that peeked below my shorts. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I shot back.
Nesbit shook his head. “I’d be careful with this guy. He’s a convicted violent felon.”
I felt my eyes widen at that.
“That’s enough, Nesbit,” Luke shouted, moving between us. He pointed to the door. “Get the hell out.” Veins popped on his temple.
“See. You never know what’ll happen when he loses his temper,” Nesbit finished as he walked slowly toward the door. “I’ll be back later, Carver. Don’t go anywhere.”
Rage boiled in Luke’s eyes.
The door closed behind Nesbit and I asked, “Who the hell does he think he is?”
Luke took a deep breath. “My parole officer,” he said softly. “I warned you I wasn’t a nice man.”
Luke
The words had scarcely left my mouth when Debbie grabbed her purse and opened the door. “On parole?” Her eyes were moist with hurt. “How could you lie to me? How can I trust you?”
“It’s not what you think—”
She cut me off with a raised hand. “I have to go pick up my check.” The door closed behind her.
Running outside to stop her and force her to listen would play right into Nesbit’s hand. I pulled open the door. “I’ll explain when you get back,” I called.
“Maybe,” she said without looking back. The shake of her head as she walked toward her car gave maybe a less-than-even chance of turning to yes.
I’d blown my opportunity to bring it up on my own, and now I was stuck with the label. Ex-con. That always left a bad taste in someone’s mouth, as if we were all like Charles Manson or whatever name they gave their personal bogeyman.
The look in Debbie’s eyes when she’d learned of my label had cut me to the bone. The fear I saw was that of someone facing a wild animal. If only I’d come clean earlier and in my own way…maybe I could have prevented this.
As soon as I put the phone on its charger, a text came in, one I didn’t need right now.
RIGGS: Meet in 30
Anger at the Nesbit brothers welled up as I typed out the reply that would keep me from taking out my frustrations on one of them.
ME: Can’t make it
A few seconds later, he sent another.
RIGGS: I’ll swing by your place later
ME: Might not be here
He didn’t acknowledge that with a response.
Debbie
The door closed behind me, and the Nesbit creep stood beside his car.
“Count yourself lucky he hasn’t beat you to a pulp yet,” he said. “He’s like dynamite ready to explode.”