Page 189 of Power Play

The kitchen went quiet. Charm wrapped both hands around the Great Lakes mug but didn’t drink.

“You’re scaring me.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Then sit down.”

I glanced toward the living room, but she shook her head.

“No, stay here.”

“Here?”

“You keep pacing when you’re trying not to say something.”

I looked down at my feet. She was right, which pissed me off enough to make her smile faintly.

“Sit down, Ryan.”

I pulled out one of the stools. Charm took the one beside mine instead of the one across from me, and that mattered too. I opened my beer and drank before resting my forearms against the island. For several seconds, I watched condensation gather beneath the bottle.

Charm didn’t rush me. I had spent most of my life around people who filled silence because it made them uncomfortable, but she sat beside me and waited.

“I told you about my mom.”

“I know.”

“You know the good shit.”

Her expression softened. “Juanita.”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the bottle label. “You know my dad overdosed when I was seven, and you know she died when I was eleven.”

Her hand moved closer to mine on the counter, although she didn’t touch me yet. “I know she was murdered.”

I looked at her. “What you don’t know is that she left to go to the corner market.”

Charm’s face changed as I turned my attention back to the beer.

“She went for milk.”

The word came out rougher than I intended.

“Milk and tortillas. I wanted cereal, and it was a Tuesday, so in America, tacos are always on Tuesday.”

Charm’s breath caught. I could still remember bitching about wanting the milk. That was the part nobody ever told you about the last conversation you had with someone. It wasn’t profound. Nobody said goodbye like they knew they were leaving.

“She told me we were out, and I told her I didn’t want eggs again.” My mouth twisted. “I was being an eleven-year-old asshole because apparently eating eggs twice in one week was a human-rights violation.”

Charm’s fingers touched mine, and I let them.

“She grabbed her purse and told me to lock the door behind her.” I swallowed against the pressure building in my throat. “I was watching TV when somebody knocked, and I thought she’d forgotten her keys.”

Charm went completely still beside me.

“I remember being pissed because I had to get off the couch.” The laugh that left me sounded wrong even to my own ears. “I opened the door expecting her, but it was a cop.”

I drank again. Charm’s hand closed around mine, but I couldn’t look at her, so I stared at the refrigerator.