7
After my talkwith Danny and an internal come-to-Jesus resolution, I start trying to protect my heart better. I still fuck Cade every Saturday and Sunday evening after closing, but I try not to let myself bond with him.
It’s not easy. In fact, I have to constantly remind myself that he’s only my customer. He’s not my boyfriend.
The result isn’t great for either one of us.
Cade immediately recognizes something is different, and he repeatedly asks about it. At first I brush off the questions, trying to keep it casual. But finally, on the second weekend, he blurts out, “Did I do something wrong?”
“What?”
“You know what. Stop blowing me off. What did I do? You gotta tell me.” His features twist slightly, a clear sign of upset in his typically unrevealing face.
“You didn’t do anything. Stop asking! I mean it!” My response is clipped, but that’s because I’m trying so hard to hold on to my resolve.
I have to be so careful.
Cade is nothing but my customer. I don’t know him at all outside the bedroom.
Danny is right. One day he’ll be done with this and be on his way, and I can’t be left in broken shambles when that happens.
A week after that, I’m a few minutes late coming out of the kitchen because I helped Marsha collect all the sliced carrots she spilled on the floor.
My section is already half full when I walk out, but my eyes immediately slide to the far corner where there’s a big man seated.
It takes a few seconds for me to realize the man isn’t Cade.
Shit.
Definitely not Cade.
It’s Cole—already stopping in again.
When I talked to him three weeks ago, I considered him a perfectly decent man and customer, but the sight of him now is definitely a disappointment.
Not anything about him, of course. Just that he’s not Cade.
And he’s in Cade’s seat.
I’ve been doing this far too long to let any of my reaction show on my face. I give him a real smile as I head in his direction. There are also a few militiamen at a larger table, but they can wait.
“Hey, Cole. You’re back already.” I stand in front of his table and peer down at his broad face and pale gray eyes. “Any luck with the brother?”
“He was there, but they already left. I’m always a few weeks behind.” He looks more than stoic tonight. Tired. Exhausted, really.
“I’m sorry,” I say, genuinely feeling for the man and his endless pursuit. I never had any brothers or sisters, but maybe I’d do the same for them. I really don’t know. “That’s got to be so exhausting. Did the folks you talk to know which way his gang was heading?”
“North, which is why I’m here again already.”
“They haven’t returned as far as I know, but I can ask around to see if anyone saw them driving through town.”
“Thanks. That would be great, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Why did they turn around again and go north?”
“Who the fuck knows? Seems like they follow any random lead they get on places that haven’t been pillaged. Not sure why they think if it’s being talked about no one else would’ve got to it first.” Cole shakes his head. “Fucking idiots.”
I can’t help but chuckle at his dry tone. “Sounds like it. There are a lot of folks like that nowadays. I get doing whatever you need to do to survive, but at least try to use your brain. They say a bunch of those types have started grouping up into one huge horde farther north.”
