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The problem is, I’m still too distracted. I’d like to blame the frame, but I know it doesn’t matter whether I can see the photo or not; that woman is ingrained in my brain. Delilah may not have been the reason for my return, but she’s suddenly become the reason I’m staying. That, and my mom and her chocolate cake.
Getting up once more, I position the frame the way it was before and return to the couch just as my mom comes in with a plate of snacks. Glancing between the photo and me, she’s about to say something, but I cut her off before she has a chance. “Just let it go, okay?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
I look up with raised eyebrows, contesting that last statement with just a look.
Rolling her eyes, she confesses, “Fine. I’ll wait until tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m talking about the snacks.”
“Oh,” she says, then laughs. “You’re welcome for that, too.”
God, I love my mom.
7
Jason
After only five days of being back, I’m already feeling like I could hang around a little longer. Sure, Delilah has kept her distance, and I’ve kept mine, but it’s been nice working around the house during the day and kicking it at night with Billy. I haven’t felt as restless. Working with my hands has been calming on my mind. It keeps my attention focused on the task at hand instead of the million angles that someone might be playing to feed their greed like in previous jobs.
I’ve managed to avoid Cole Cutler, thank fuck, due to our schedules running opposite so far. The evening starts off casual, and I’m catching up with McGilley while Billy keeps the tab open. I’ve never been one for loose lips, but the easy nature of being parked on a barstool like the guys beside me have been for the past four or five years, I find myself talking about some of my adventures. I leave the illegal parts out. The talk is light with laughter as good times are being re-lived.
The door swings open, and I hear a few guys call out his name. “Cutler.”
That’s what I get for getting cozy in this town.
I’m tempted to turn and look when the conversation goes quiet, but I keep my focus on the pint glass in front of me. One by one, I hear him greet the guys, and then he’s behind me. Billy says, “There’s a free stool at the other end of the bar. I reckon it would be best if you take a seat down there, Cutler.”
Cutler ignores him, his eyes already burning a hole in the back of my head. I feel it, every nerve in my body ready to fight. I still won’t give him the satisfaction of my recognition. Fuck him.
“Well. Well. Wellllll. If it ain’t the great number eight himself, Jason Koster.” His hand lands hard on my shoulder, and he squeezes. “It’s been a while, old friend.”
Cracking my neck to the opposite side, I pick up my glass and down a swig before turning and looking back over my shoulder. “Not long enough.”
“Nope.” He slides in on the other side of me and pats the bar. McGilley already has a pint ready and sets it down. “It’s on Koster,” he tells him. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he leans closer. “Thanks for the beer, bud.”
“You can thank Billy since he’s buying.”
He holds his glass up. “Thanks.” Not wasting time, he gulps it down like it’s water. Making a production, he pushes it toward McGilley. “Another.” His breath is heavy, his shoulders weighing him down.
I can tell this is going to turn into something more, so I swivel to leave. My shoulder is smacked down again, and he says, “Here to visit your mom? Your girl? What dragged your sorry ass back to town?”
“Here we go,” Billy says. “Cool it, Cutler. We’re just catching up on old times here. No harm. No foul.”
Bopping his head, he adds. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have the girl. She’s mine.”
Maybe I’ll stick around a little longer. I take another pull from the glass, and then reply, “Not from what I’ve gathered.”
“What did you say, Koster?”
Turning to Cutler for the first time, I look him dead in the eyes. “I said, not from what I’ve gathered.”
My shoulder is shoved, but I catch myself before I fall. Billy is on his feet and pushing Cutler back against the bar. “Get off me. Fucking assholes.” He shrugs out of Billy’s hold, giving up the fight before it ever really began. Sneering at Billy, he spits, “Where’s your loyalty, Langston? Or are you brainwashed into bowing down to this fucker, too?”
His insults don’t hurt me. Him breaking bro code pisses me off. “Loyalty? You don’t know shit about loyalty.”
“This has been a long time coming. Outside, fucker.”
