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“And now… here you are. With my girl Whitney,” she said, looking between the two of us.
It happened to fast.
One moment, her gaze was moving over Whitney casually. Then landing on the bracelet bruise on her wrist that I’d uncovered.
The next thing I knew, I had a fucking steak knife pressed to my carotid.
“Maureen!” Whitney hissed, eyes going huge.
“That was fucking smooth, lady,” I said, letting out a low chuckle.
“You know who laughs when they have a knife to their throat? Psychopaths, that’s who,” Maureen declared.
“Maureen, what are you doing?” Whitney said, reaching out for the older woman’s arm, trying to pull it away. But despite the woman being skinny and small, man, she wasn’t budging.
“I’ve lived a lot of life, you know?” Maureen said. “The more years you get, the more you reevaluate some stances you had when you were younger. Gotten a lot less rigid on shit like stepping out on your spouse or stealing shit off the shelves at a store. I’m even cool with some killing if some sonofabitch had it coming. But putting your hands on a defenseless woman? Yeah, let’s just say my patience for that shit has gotten thinner and thinner with each passing year.”
“He didn’t put his hands on me,” Whitney insisted, trying to keep her tone calm, but I could hear a hitch in her voice.
“Listen, honey, it’s not your fault. You don’t gotta defend him anymore. You leave him to me.”
“No, no, Maureen. It’s not like that. He didn’t put his hands on me. He’s waiting for me because he’s… he’s trying to protect me from the guy who actually did beat me up.”
That seemed to get Maureen’s attention.
She let her gaze slip toward Whitney, trying to gauge her truthfulness. But as she did, she pressed the knife tip just a little deeper into my skin.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Yes. I swear. My sister’s ex was the one who beat me up. He’s trying to find her. And I wasn’t… cooperating with that.”
“As you shouldn’t,” Maureen said, pulling the knife away from my throat like nothing at all had happened. “Fucking assholes thinking they have a right to access any of us they want whenever they want us. You,” she said, pinning me again with her intense gaze. “You better keep my girl safe. Know you aren’t afraid to use… any means necessary,” she added, giving me a nod, making it clear she knew the details of my case.
“I will keep her safe.”
“And you,” she said, looking back at Whitney with narrowed us. “You don’t keep shit like this from me, you hear? I need to know if there’s some shady character I should be keeping an eye out for.”
“For now, if anyone is asking after me, just… don’t tell them anything, okay?” Whitney said.
“Mums the word. Okay. Get her home. She needs some rest,” Maureen said, nodding at me. “I got the rest of the side work. Shit looks slow. Slow means I’ll go stir crazy if I don’t have anything to do,” she added, cutting off Whitney’s objections.
“You ready?” I asked as Whitney grabbed her bag.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding, letting me press a hand to the small of her back to lead her out of the diner.
“Oh, forgot to mention this. Got a family member of mine crashing on the couch. He won’t bother you. He’s just there so I can keep an eye on his wound. He’s notorious for doing stupid shit like pouring fucking peroxide on it even though I’ve told him dozen fucking times not to do that. What?” I asked when Whitney shot me a smile.
“You sound kind of like a dad or uncle bitching about one of the youngins, is all,” she said.
“Wouldn’t have to if young and stupid didn’t always go so fucking hand-in-hand,” I said, shaking my head.
To that, she let out a twinkling sort of laugh.
“What’s his name?”
“Anthony. And he grumbles about everything. Doesn’t help that this is the third time in, what, two years that he’s been laid up at my place.”
“Geez. Is your life really that… dangerous? I mean, of course it can be, but…”
