Page 49 of Housesitter

Kel supposed he couldn’t blame it. He wasn’t sure why he cared. It wasn’t like ‘fucked up’ was unfamiliar territory for him.

He’d pushed it a bit this time, but—Kel limped out of the bedroom and headed toward the stairs—it was nothing new.

The door to Shepherd’s room was open. Kel glanced in and winced at the stripped bed. That felt pointed. He gripped the handrail and went downstairs, the steps creaking under his weight.

It was quiet.

“Shepherd?” Kel said. It came out quieter than he’d planned. He cleared his throat and tried again. “SHEPHERD?”

His voice bounced back off the plaster walls. No other answer. That was mature.

Kel leaned in around the kitchen door, wasting a good, sheepish smile on the empty space. There wasn’t even a cup of coffee on the kitchen table.

Great. Uncaffeinated Shepherd to start the day.

Kel straightened up, arm braced against the doorframe, as he looked around.

It was, he realized, very quiet. Shepherd filled a space. He talked. A lot. He didn’t really need anyone to answer back. Silent, uncaffeinated Shepherd.

How badly had he fucked up?

Shit, Kel realized as he headed toward the conservatory, he really was going to have to apologise, and without it being dragged out of him.

It took him three more rooms and an empty garage to realize the truth.

He’d sped straight through ‘fucked up’ to ‘fucked off’.

Ruby dipped her thumb in the egg residue on the plate and smudged it onto the collar of Kel’s overalls. They were standing in the middle of the empty greasy spoon, the ‘CLOSED’ sign on the door turned to put off anyone wanting a late breakfast.

Kel pulled his collar out to look at the stain. “Really?”

She licked her thumb clean and dried it on her apron. “You need to look simple,” she said, as she popped out her hip and let a drawl thicken her words. “People love to talk down to common working folk, darlin’. How do you think I make most of my tips?”

“By pretending to be from Texas?”

“That was Louisiana,” Ruby said.

“Are you sure?”

She reached up and patted his cheek. “Don’t sass your grandma just because it took you most of the morning to be sure your boyfriend had left you.”

Kel snorted. “He’d be the first to tell you, he wasn’t my boyfriend,” he said. Even he could hear the self-pity in his voice.

There was a pause. Ruby rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh before she allowed herself a grudging sympathy. Or what passed for it among the Lakers.

“I know your pride hurts,” she said. “But it was for the best. You’re like your dad. Like me. We’re not cut out to be loved. It brings out the worst in us. If he’d not hurt you, you’d have hurt him.”

Kel reached up and scratched the back of his head, fingers dug down through his hair. He grimaced as he remembered Shepherd’s face the night before.

You can’t do that.

“I think I already hurt him,” he said.

“But you didn’t mean to.” Ruby took his arms, turned him around, and pushed him toward the door. “Eventually you’d have done it on purpose. So…it was for the best. Believe that, and get your ass to the bank.”

What else was he going to do, Kel supposed. Besides, Hell might have decided that his legally issued birth certificate was all the paperwork it needed, but Doncaster was still dragging his heels. Until the estate was released, or Kel worked out a way to make the ‘smoke’ work online, he needed money.

“Wish me luck,” he said.