Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [57]
I stood up so fast I got an immediate head rush.
“You’re right on one thing. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you spend the rest of your life in jail. Do whatever the hell you want to. You will anyway.”
Trish paused in the entryway, horrified when I pushed past her.
Music blaring, head pounding, I sucked down
three cigarettes on the way home. Cursing him. Cursing myself. Wondering why I’d bothered. Why I even fucking cared.
197
At home after I showered, I knew I couldn’t spend another night alone in my house. I called Jimmer to see if he was game to move up our drinking date. No answer. Story of my life.
As I debated whether or not to call Kevin, my cell rang; he was on the line. “Divine karma, my friend. Wanna go to Dusty’s and shoot pool? Hang out with me and Don Julio tonight? Been a while.”
“That it has.”
“Cool. Where are you?”
“Driving aimlessly.”
Kevin never did anything without purpose. “Get your ass out here. On the way to Dusty’s you can confess how much you’ve missed my oh-so-vindictive sense of humor.”
He snorted. “I don’t buy the Mary-fucking-sunshine act, babe. What’s happened the last couple days when I’ve been a total selfish prick?”
I figured he’d pick up on my mood, but not that fast. “You wanna hear it in person?”
“No. Tell me now. It’ll give me an indication on how much you’re drinking tonight.”
“Tons.” By the time I finished relaying everything in clinical detail, he was parked in the driveway. Without any prompt from me, Kevin climbed out of his Jeep and wrapped me in a hug. I missed his casual affection. Wasn’t the same kind of affection Martinez gave me, but I realized I needed it just as badly.
“Thanks.”
198
“You’re welcome. You don’t have to deal with this psycho family on your own, tough girl. Although, I don’t know why you insist on . . .”
“What?”
“Letting them destroy you a piece at a time.”
First time he’d commented on my relationship with the Collins family. “Next time Trish or Brittney calls me about helping Dad I’ll hit call forward.”
“Deal.”
“Let’s go.”
In my truck Kevin said, “Uh oh. I know that look, Jules, and it’s never good.”
I pushed in the cigarette lighter, holding the unlit smoke between my gloved fingers as I steered with my left hand. “What look?”
“The I’m-looking-to-kick-the-shit-out-of-someone look.”
“Wrong. I left my shit kickers at home. Despite what you and Jimmer think, I am not always looking for a fight.”
“Doesn’t matter. They seem to find you.”
“Lucky thing I didn’t bring my gun or my bow, huh?”
“Shit.”
I smiled and stomped on the gas pedal.
199
Although I’d spent plenty of time in bars
recently, I hadn’t set foot in Dusty’s in months. Nothing had changed. Same cavelike atmosphere. Same barflies holding court. Same smells of beer, tobacco, dirt, and sweat.
We wound through the happy hour crowd until
we reached the line of booths in the back room by the pool tables. Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) blasted from the speakers.
Hadn’t occurred to me to look for my psycho exboyfriend until we’d settled in. Kevin said, “Didn’t see that asshole Ray hanging around anywhere, did you?”
“No. However, the night is still young.”
“Jesus. You scare me sometimes, you know that?”
“That’s what Martinez says right before he mumbles that I need a damn bodyguard.”
200
“He would know all about that.”
Not going there.
Carla, the uber-efficient cocktail waitress, breezed to our table. “Haven’t seen you guys in here for ages.”
“We’d better make up for lost time, huh? Bring us four shots of Don Julio and four Coors.”
“You betcha. I’ll start a tab.”
Kevin leaned across the table. “Someone else joining us?”
“Nah. Just you and me, babycakes.” I lit up. His intent eyes locked to mine. Here was another chance to bare my soul about all the crap clogging up my life. I missed talking