Page 17 of When The Noise Stops

Tiny, of course, had no such restraint.

"So," he said, stretching his arms above his head.

"She likes you."

I grunted.

"I'm serious. She climbed into your lap. She touched you like five hundred times. She stares at you all the time. She likes you."

"She's just friendly. She likes everybody."

"Not like she likes you," Hawk said.

I looked toward her side of the duplex.

"She's nice to us," Hawk said.

"She's different with you."

I didn't say anything.

Hawk's voice dropped.

"She told us about her ex. The one who shot her."

I went still. Turned to look at him.

"She told you?"

"Yeah," Tiny shrugged.

"When we were helping at the bakery. We volunteered to put him in the hospital. She said he's already in prison."

Hawk spoke up.

"I like her for you."

"She's too young."

"She's thirty-three," Tiny said.

My head turned.

"Why the fuck do you know how old she is?"

Tiny shrugged.

"She told us today. We talked to her, Grizz. That's what people do when they're together for eight hours."

Thirty-three.

I wouldn't have guessed that.

"She looks twenty-five."

"Black don't crack," Tiny said.

Hawk looked at him.