“There’s nothing funny about that, jackass,” I snap at Billy.
“I’m not laughing about that. I’m laughing at this goon’s reaction. He was choking on air.”
“We’re supposed to be helping her get closer to the detective, not run him off, you insensitive dickhead,” Jackson says, leaning against the wall. “He has serious issues,” he says to me, nodding his head toward Billy.
I pull a face, having so many questions about what Jackson’s just said. But I’ve been out here too long already, so I push them to the side for now.
“Go away,” I whisper-yell, grabbing two Coke cans from the refrigerator, leaving Billy to his theatrics and Jackson to continue glowering at him.
There’s no way I’d bring it up, but considering he asked for a Coke, knowing the subject we’re about to embark on, it’s likely true.
I practically shove the soda in Nick’s face, popping the top and half draining my can before I’ve even sat down. I’m preoccupied thinking about all this man has been through and I haven’t had caffeine since this morning. I’m in dire need.
Nick’s eyes widen as he watches me chug my drink. “Thirsty?”
I gulp down one more sip, propping my legs up on the couch. “It’s been a long life.”
“I’ve gotta admit, I’ve never seen someone take down a Coke so quickly. Good thing it’s only soda or else I might be carrying you to bed tonight.”
My mind goes right down the gutter at the thought of Nick taking me to bed—in any fashion. He must recognize his semi-blunder because his face flushes and his mouth slams shut.
Thank god it’s him feeling awkward this time.
I place my can on the table, hoping to steer the conversation, and my perverse thoughts, to something a bit safer. Anything to get my mind off Nick’s firm chest pressed against me.
Stop it!
“It’s probably better that I stick to this. With the events of late, I’m not sure I’d know when enough is enough,” I say, apparently hurdling right over safe, deep diving into another muck-filled pool of chitchat.
The topic is potentially heavy, but it gives him an opening to confide in me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope for that. I want to know more about Nick and that surprises me more every day.
“You’re probably right,” he says, taking a drink and cutting off that possible discussion.
A part of me is disappointed, but why would he? We’re still merely strangers, dealing with a host of odd occurrences that I’ve managed to pull him in to, and I must remind myself that’s why he’s here.
“Like I said, long life.”
He chuckles, but quickly smothers it. “Not the whole life... I hope.”
I shrug. “No, but the good times are a little clouded under the crap of the past few years.”
He nods, eyes darkening slightly. “I understand.”
“I know you do.” The words come out a little too breathy considering the topic.
I attempt to take another sip of my drink, only to find it is empty.
For a minute, I contemplate what to say. Should I jump into thewhole Jenna thing or dive right into the new information I have on the guys? Instead, I veer off topic.
“I’m sorry about your fiancée. I had no idea.”
Of course I’d move from a brutal topic to an even worse one.
“Didn’t expect you to. We’re neighbors, but we practically live in separate universes.”
He isn’t wrong, but my stomach drops at his words. I don’t like the way we’ve ignored each other. Neighbors should be friendly. Neighbors should know who lives next to them. Otherwise, you’re living next door to Boone Helm, none the wiser and marked as his next filet.
“But that does bring me to what I wanted to talk to you about.” Nick cuts in, halting the scene playing out in my head involving me, a hatchet, and a hillbilly serial killer.
