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“Not even close.” He shakes his head. “Not even close.”
“What is it, Pop?”
“I can’t protect you tomorrow any more than I could protect you on that horrible day.” He rubs his side where he was pierced with a bullet and stares into nothingness, almost as if talking to himself. “I have no way to shield you and no peace knowing that. Couldn’t save your Mom… Can’t save you.” He turns to Eli. “Promise me you’ll do everything you can, Elias.”
“Of course I will. Only thing I can’t do is keep her temper in check.” He turns to study me before returning to focus on Pop. “Only she can promise you that.”
My nod is solemn. I know what’s at stake.
I’m no fool.
* * *
The next morning,I throw on the black dress I wore to Mom’s funeral—the one I swore I’d never wear again. I should’ve trashed it that day. I definitely will tonight. It’s not comfortable, and I don’t want to fidget in it all day, but I can’t go to this hearing in mucked-up boots and Levi’s, so I’m doing what I can.
This dress serves another purpose. It keeps me somber and reminds me of my promise to Pop. Only I can save myself now, and I need to remember how.
Eli hands me a travel mug of coffee and scratches Luna between the ears. “Be back soon, girl.”
The man is smart. I knew that, but he proves it over and over again. He woke me with his mouth between my legs and, while I was still cresting the wave of that orgasm, thrust inside me. I had a second while he rode me hard.
Two orgasms and then coffee. The man isn’t just smart, he’s a genius.
Our ride into town is silent, just as our morning has been. It isn’t tense silence. I’m stuck in my head and, if I had to guess, I’d say Eli is too. I need to steady my focus and he’s allowing that.
He squeezes my hand in his as he turns into a parking spot in the town square. When he’s done, he turns to me. “Where’s your head? Are you ready for this?”
“I’m good.”
“You sure? You seem melancholy.”
“I promise.” I hold his eyes before dropping my gaze to our joined hands. “I’m thinking about Mom and, oh yeah, I’m burning this dress tonight.”
“Okay, darlin’. What do you need from me?”
“Stay by my side today?”
“Without a doubt. Let’s go.”
I grab the door handle and exit the vehicle.
“Time to Ranger up,” he says.
“It’s weird when it’s not Pop saying it.”
“Time to Ranger up, sweet girl.” Pop’s voice comes from behind me and tears threaten to form.
I spin to him, caught off guard that he would be here. “You’re here?
He scoffs. “As if I would let you do this alone.”
He’s in his dress jeans and boots, but has added a sports coat over his starched shirt. His hat completes the look. He’s every Texas man. And his presence will remind them of that.
We comply with all the security measures and are led into a small meeting room with a table and six chairs. In my head, I’d pictured a courtroom and a judge in flowing black robes. In this scenario, I was the inmate in the orange jumpsuit that didn’t have access to decent hair products. Instead, we’re greeted by one man and a recording device.
“Percy.” Pop offers a hand. “Good to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Too long for sure.”
