Page 25 of Bullet

“He’s going to steal my cats, isn’t he?” I tease. From the first time he stopped by, Puss and Boots have loved Crush.

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Bullet says.

Orion drops us off, and I drag my weary body into the house. The aroma of cooking food reminds my grumbling tummy that I haven’t eaten since noon, and even then, it was a bagel on the run. Crush is in my kitchen, bent over a pot.

“You cooked,” I state, unable to keep the amazement out of my tone.

“I wouldn’t call it that. Opened a couple of cans, and made some garlic bread,” he replies, keeping his eyes down.

I don’t know what possesses me to do what I do next, but I can’t help myself. I run over and hug Crush as tight as I can. “Thank you. It’s been interrogation overload, and this is the sweetest thing you could do for me. I’m being girly and emotional, and I’m sure you hate it, but I can’t help myself.”

Bullet

Crush looks completely stunned at Amelia’s reaction to soup. To his credit, he holds her for a minute, staring at me, stunned and pleading with me to help him.

“I didn’t get that reaction,” I tease.

Amelia turns to me. “Sofia wouldn’t let me,” she whimpers.

“Feeling a little left out,” I say, urging her to come to me. She does so immediately, which makes Crush sigh in relief. “Serve up the soup, brother. We have to feed Amelia and get her into bed. It’s been a long day.”

I walk Amelia over to the kitchen table, but instead of sitting her in a chair, I pull her onto my lap. I don’t want to let go of her just yet, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to be let go of either. Crush serves up the soup and goes to grab his jacket, giving the cats pats on the head.

“Stay,” Amelia tells him.

“What?” Crush asks.

“There’s a spare room. Nothing fancy, but you’re welcome to it. It’s late, and you went to so much trouble for me and Bullet. It would make me feel better if you stayed. Then I won’t worry about whether you made it home okay.” She pauses, watching Crush take in what she’s said. “Please,” she adds.

Crush picks up the kittens and comes over to the table, holding them on his lap while we eat. He ate already when he fed Puss and Boots earlier. He listens as Amelia tells us about the interrogation.

When she’s done with her food, I gently urge her to head to bed. Puss must have sensed her mama’s mood, because she follows her into the bedroom. I clean up, and Crush keeps me company.

“The cops have nothing,” he states. “They’re reaching.”

“That’s what I figure. It burns me that they’re making this harder on Amelia.”

“That sucks. Amelia’s a good woman. How she even ended up at Freddie’s is a fluke.” Crush shakes his head.

“She saw it on her way into town. It was on the main route. Just bad luck.”

“We’re back down to the same question: who wants the Pride to take the fall?”

“It’s late, and we’re both wiped. I just want to go hold my woman and shut my eyes for the night. The shit will still be here in the morning,” I say wearily, running a hand over my face.

“Interrogation overload.” Crush repeats what Amelia said earlier. “Get some sleep, brother. I’ll keep an ear open.”

Crush can do that. Maybe it’s all the years of living on the streets on his own, but he’s able to shut his eyes and still wake up when he feels danger lurking. He’s got the ability to go on very little sleep and still do what needs to be done. I used to worry about him not getting enough rest, but over the years, I’ve learned that it’s just his way.

“Thanks, bro.”

“Never have to thank me for shit. This is what we do for each other.” He jerks his head toward the bedroom. “Go be with your woman.”

Fourteen

Making Progress

Bullet