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He sighed, picking up the tire and inspecting it before looking at me. “I can fix it, but you need a new one.”
I nodded, already expecting that. “How much?” I reached in my pocket where I’d stashed a couple hundred dollar bills for this exact thing. He looked at the building Noah had disappeared into and I said again, a little more forcefully, “How much?”
“A hundred,” he answered grudgingly. “I don’t like charging you.”
I rolled my eyes. “But it’s okay to threaten to run me out of town?” I snipped, passing him a folded bill. “You’ve got some real standards in this town.”
One of his cheeks creased and I started to wonder if every guy in this town was good looking. “I hope you stick around,” he murmured, walking over to a wall stacked with tires. “You’d be good for him.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, not about to confess I was the absolute last woman Noah needed in his life. Cops and felons didn’t exactly make the best couples.
A giant came stumbling out of the building next door, distracting me, and reassuring me that not every guy in town needed their very own calendar. He weaved toward some motorcycles parked in a row and I grew concerned. “Hey, Crew,” I called, but he didn’t respond. “Crew,” I said a little more sharply. “That is your name?”
This time he looked at me, and I nodded to the bearded giant trying to straddle a motorcycle. “Should he be driving?”
Crew followed my gaze, muttered, “Shit,” and then took off.
“I guess not,” I murmured as Crew intercepted the giant, and watched as they argued for a minute, but the giant gave up when Crew refused to budge. They walked back toward me, Crew bracing the man as he swayed.
“Have a seat, Hank,” Crew urged the man, who swatted at him.
“I’m fine. You’re being a damn old hen. Worse than Mary,” the man grumbled, pushing Crew away. “You don’t know when to leave enough well alone,” he slurred, some of his words out of order.
“I’m going to get you some coffee,” Crew answered, ignoring the man’s fussing. He glanced at me. “Don’t let him leave.”
He was gone before I could protest and I eyed the giant. “How exactly am I supposed to stop him if he does try to leave?” I mumbled under my breath, taking a seat next to the big guy. “Hi, Hank.”
He gave me a bleary eyed stare. “Who the hell are you?”
“Cadence,” I answered, squeezing my hands between my legs, as I introduced myself to a man who was three times my size. “Bad day?”
The thick beard couldn’t hide the pain bracketing his face as he fumbled in the pocket of his black vest, patches decorating most of the available area. He pulled out a flask, about to take a swig when I held out my hand. He paused, and then decades of manners must have kicked in because he offered it to me.
I put the silver flask to my mouth, wincing as the liquid burned down my throat, but I didn’t stop until it was empty. I handed the flask back to him, trying not to choke on the battery acid making its way down my esophagus. He took the now empty flask, giving it a shake, and then tipped it over. A single drop fell from the mouth of it and he glared at me.
“You drank all of my whisky,” he roared and I jumped slightly at the volume.
“That’s not whisky, that’s rotgut,” I corrected him, then let out a burp. “You should be thanking me for not letting you drink that shit.”
“Who the hell are you?” He asked again, and the cheap whiskey must have kicked in because I answered, “Noah’s girlfriend.”
“Oh,” he said, deflating. “You should have said that sooner.”
I shrugged, and the world tipped. “I shouldn’t have drank your whiskey,” I admitted, hiccupping. “What the hell proof is that,” I whispered loudly. “Usually I can hold my liquor,” I enunciated carefully. I looked at him and asked, “What happened?”
“My daughter died,” he said simply. “Murdered and there was no reason for it.”
“I understand,” I murmured and he let out a growl, clearly not believing me. “No, no. I do,” I rushed to reassure him, waving my hand and almost whacking him in the face. “My mom was murdered. A purst,” I paused, trying to get my lips to form the word correctly, “Pur-se snatching gone wrong.” He stared at me as I shook my head. “Ten dollars. That’s all she had. I know because she wanted me to take it that morning before I went to school. I told her no. I didn’t need it,” I confessed, looking up at him. “Maybe if I’d taken it, they wouldn’t have snatched her purse. Maybe,” I hiccupped. “Maybe she wouldn’t have died.”
