Page 21 of The Other Half

“Jake?”

“You okay?”

“Um, yeah,” I answered, standing and smoothing the dirt from my knees.

“Is that your car?” He pointed down the causeway to the hunk of junk dead on the side of the road.

Even though I didn’t want to admit it was mine, I nodded. “Yeah. It’s mine. It just stopped.”

“I’m surprised it ever started.” He snorted and eyed the broken metal heap with disdain.

Horrified at his observation of the state of my beast, I cracked a shy smile. “Yeah, it’s not in the best shape.”

“Why are you in the weeds?”

I started out of them, climbing up the small incline back onto the road. “I thought you were a kidnapper or a serial killer, so I hid.”

“A serial killer? In Door County?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“You never know,” I argued, finally making it back onto the road. “Haven’t you seen any horror movies?”

“It’s Door County. I do know.” The laughter hovered just under his words. “There’s no serial killer here.”

“Well I didn’t know that. I’m from the city.”

“Well, I’m from a small town. When people in small towns stop to offer you a ride, they aren’t serial killers. They’re just, you know, nice people.”

Feeling embarrassed for my irrational thinking, I shrugged. His eyes dropped to the little pink cylinder in my hand. My thumb still hovered over the button at the top.

“Were you going to mace me?” he asked, and a smile played on his lips.

“Sorry.” I gave him a close-lipped grin while I snapped it shut and put it back in my purse. The smile starting on his lips faded, and he shook his head.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” With the nod of his head, he gestured to the passenger side of his shiny black truck.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“We’re neighbors. It’s fine.”

Neighbors? I thought while I walked to the truck. That would explain why he was in my yard. Opening the door to the truck, I paused for a moment while I tried to figure out how to get in. It was so high off the ground the seat came up to my boobs. Jake hopped in with ease and looked over to see me hanging on the seat trying to pull myself up.

“There’s a step-side you can stand on.”

Looking down I saw the metal bar that had been banging my shin while I tried to scramble up. I stepped on it and grabbed ahold of the handle above the door and pulled myself in. Landing with a grunt, I blew out an exasperated breath while I settled and took in the contents of the truck. Piles of camouflage clothing, tackle boxes, and a giant plastic deer head littered the black upholstered back seats. “This thing is huge!”

“Yep,” he answered as he put it in drive.

“It’s nice,” I kept on.

“Yep.”

“You okay after that fight? It was pretty crazy.”

Silence was his only answer and the sullen look that seemed to be his permanent expression only deepened. Not a man of many words, I thought to myself when he started driving. I realized I shouldn’t have asked about the fight, so changed the subject. “So, we’re neighbors?”

“Yep.”

“How long have you lived here?”