It’s in my pocket now.
She kept it.
It’s such a cheap little thing. It was one month’s salary when I bought it, but one month’s salary running black market smokes was peanuts.
I threw her away, and she kept this piece of crap, all this time.
“Hey.” She’s turned back to face me now, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? Are you lying to me? Is it really bad?”
“No, I promise. It’s a flesh wound.”
“Then why does your face look like that?”
“Like how?”
She struggles for words, and finally, she sighs. “Like I broke you,” she says.
“Here. You’re making me nervous.” Larry rolls a stool by Neveah’s head. “Sit,” he orders. Then he wheels his own stool next to Neveah’s injured side, relieving Sunny.
I sit, and slide as close as I can, leaning over to rest my forehead on hers. She reaches up for my hands. I grab them and rest them at the top of the gurney.
“Scissors.” Larry holds out an open palm. Sunny hands them over.
I drop a kiss on Nevaeh’s temple. “I’m fine. And you’re going to be fine, too.”
“We’re both fine.”
“Yes.” It’s not true, but I am going to make it so. “After this, I’m going to take you home, and I’m never letting you leave.”
“Okay. But I’m going to need to make some changes.”
“Like what?”
“I want a swimming pool.”
“You can have the biggest swimming pool they make.”
Her lips curve, and then a shadow passes over her face. I glance down at Larry. He’s unpacking the wound, but he’s being careful. Gentle. He better.
“Does it hurt?” I would take it from her if I could. And I’d take everything back.
She ignores the question. “When I say we stay together, we stay together. From here on out. If you can’t do that, there’s the door. You don’t know what’s best for us. We decide. Both.”
“I am never leaving you again.”
“It’s settled then.” She squeezes my hands. “We’re getting a pool with a slide and a swim up bar.”
“I love you,” I murmur in her ear. I need her to know. I am a stubborn man, and I make the wrong calls, but I know a gift when I’m given one.
I’m not stupid enough to squander a second chance.
And I can recognize heaven. Even backwards.
14
NEVAEH
There’s a quarter-sized patch of raw pink scar tissue on my upper right thigh. The flesh is a little dented, but all-in-all, it’s not so bad. It’s nowhere near as bad as Forty’s. It’s not even sore anymore, but the skin feels tight, and it itches sometimes.
Fay-Lee pokes it. I float away.
“Does that hurt?” she asks.
I half-heartedly splash her, but she’s already wet and thoroughly buzzed off her third margarita. She flips me the bird and spins herself in her pink flamingo inflatable.
“Yes, that hurts. Come here and let me put my finger your eye. See if that hurts.” I’m exaggerating. Like I said, all considering, I got off easy.
“I’m tappin’ a kidney. You ladies want anything?” Shirlene swings her legs over the side of her chaise lounge and gives herself a minute before she stands. I finally convinced her to take a day off. She works herself too damn hard.
“More margarita!” Fay-Lee calls from her flamingo.
“I’m good.”
“Spray down that chair with a hose while I’m inside, will you?” Shirlene plucks her white bikini out of her ass crack. I want her confidence when I’m sixty-whatever. “The plastic’s startin’ to cook me like a George Foreman grill.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” I give her a salute. She rolls her eyes.
When she’s inside, I splash her lounger the best I can from the pool. I’m not gettin’ out, dragging the hose over, coiling it back up so Forty doesn’t pitch a fit. I’m an injured woman.
When I was first recovering, everyone spoiled the hell out of me. Shirlene was over every night cooking dinner, Ray and Boots made Charge drive them over, and Angel, Grinder, Larry, and Sunny all dropped by. Lou came over to watch TV almost every day after work. It was an amazing week or two. Now people poke me and ask me to hose off their chairs.
Of course, Forty’s still going strong with the spoiling. Right now, he’s tilling a strip where the fence used to be so I can plant a vegetable garden. He’s shirtless, tanned, and his pecs are shiny with sweat. I squeeze my thighs tight. My pussy’s still sore from this morning, but I could go again. I really want the garden, though. I want to grow tomatoes and basil and make pasta sauce from scratch. Forty loves spaghetti.
I’m not sure if we can grow anything before the first frost, but it’ll be ready to go for next year.
Overall, life is pretty good. There’s this brand new saltwater pool in our backyard. With Steel Bones Constructions’ connections and some greased palms, it was done in no time.
And beside my pearl around my neck, there’s a fat diamond on my ring finger. I hold it up and admire it for the one thousandth time.
“No one likes a show off,” Fay-Lee calls from across the pool.
“Does it blind you when I hold it like so?” I stick it up high in the air.
“I’ve got a big-ass rock, too. I just don’t like wearing it in public.”
“You pawned it, didn’t you?” Fay-Lee was raised dirt poor. She has a thing about stashing away cash, hoarding food, that kind of thing. Her stories about growing up always make you laugh, and then later, they break your heart.
“I did. Dizzy bought it back, though. He hid it in his sock drawer. He thinks I don’t know. He’s probably got an elaborate plan to teach me a lesson.”
“You gonna pawn it again?”
“Most likely.”
We fall quiet, and Shirlene pads back out, dropping a fresh margarita for Fay-Lee on the side of the pool. I stretch in my floating lounger, dipping my feet in the cool water.
Larry gave me the okay for baths and the pool, but Forty thinks I still need to keep the wound dry. The lounger is a compromise. I’ve got a spray bottle to cool me off and ice tea in the cup holder.
After a long work week, it’s heaven.
So far, in addition to our daily rounds of the old peeps, Shirlene and I have cleared out Ray’s entire basement. Now we’re working on his garage. We started making progress a lot faster when we put Boom to work. I’ve got a permanent bodyguard now, even though I’m in the clear with the Renellis.
That was a crazy story. Apparently, the Feds had gotten Carlo to flip. The deal was that Carlo hands over the Renellis’ books, and he gets immunity and witness protection. The Renellis found out and cut off his access. Carlo had a contingency plan, though. A shadow ledger sewn into his messenger bags. Oops.
Carlo had to shake his tail to come after me, so there were no Feds to witness what happened in the parking lot. The Renellis’ problem disappeared, and they all had air tight alibis. So basically, the Renellis owe us a huge favor.
Sometimes I think I should feel bad about Carlo. It’s hard to keep my mind on the right and wrong of it, though. My brain skitters to the feel of his hand collapsing my windpipe. So I banish him to the same shadowy corner where I shove Ed Ellis. Damn if they don’t refuse to stay there, but I don’t have to look them in the eye all the time, so maybe it’s the best that can be done.