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Shit and motherfucker and all the other swear words Trigger uses. “Well, they’re lovely,” I repeat lamely.
“Don’t gotta worry about talking about mom,” Trigger says as he rubs my back. “We’re good with it.”
Bob nods. “Ancient history.”
“Good,” I say, still uncomfortable. “Good.”
Bob takes a long swallow of beer, then lowers the can. “I like animals. Was thinking about getting a dog, but don’t know. I can barely look after myself.”
“You do fine lookin’ after yourself,” Trigger interjects.
“You should get a dog. A rescue,” I say warming to the topic. “So many of them need good homes.” I shift slightly in my chair, trying not to arch my back. “And they’re great companions.”
He looks doubtful. “What’d I do with it if I go somewhere?”
“You don’t go anywhere,” Trigger says.
Bob narrows his eyes at Trigger. “I might.”
“It’s an easy solution,” I say. “You’d leave it with us. Or if a dog’s too much trouble, you could get a cat. They can be very affectionate.”
“Dad don’t like cats,” Trigger observes.
Bob nods his head. “Accidentally killed one once. I was helping my friend, Trevor, build a cabinet. We were in his garage. I sprayed a bunch of lacquer. Cat was inside and got all woozy. Then when I was done, I walked outside and closed the garage door. Brought it right down on the cat.”
I’m at a loss for words, not because the cat was killed – cat’s do stupid things all the time that get them killed. But getting killed by a garage door? Unfathomable.
Trigger rescues me. “Cats have been out to get dad ever since.”
I turn to him. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
He and Bob shrug their shoulders together. “They have networks,” Bob says. “They know.”
A ding comes from inside and Bob jumps up. “Dinner’s ready!” he announces.
I’m not sure who looks more relieved. Me, Bob, or Trigger.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Trigger
We pull up in front of Evanee’s childhood home. It’s this huge mansion with a circular driveway surrounded by immaculate lawns that explain why the rest of the homeowners in Reno are on water restrictions. A fountain of a mermaid and dolphin sits in the centre of the driveway, the mermaid pouring water out of an urn. There are pillars leading up the stairs of the house, which has a million windows and hanging baskets of flowers.
As a kid, I imagined myself living in a place like this, but as I grew older, I started despising the assholes behind those doors. I’m meeting Evanee’s parents with a chip on my shoulder that tends to feed my inner demons. Today, I gotta a find a way to reconcile myself with who I am and what I want. Evanee grew up with this kind of money and I love her more than the air I breathe. How bad could her parents really be?
Evanee is nervous.
“Whatcha worried about, babe?” I ask as I help her out of the SUV I borrowed from Coyote. The ride was a concession that Evanee didn’t ask me to make. I figure I may as well get used to drivin’ a sled, ‘cause with Evanee and maybe kids, I’m gonna need one occasionally.
“My parents can be… difficult,” she says under her breath. She knows I’m carrying. I’m always carrying. “Please don’t shoot them.”
“I promise I won’t, even if I don’t like ‘em.”
She throws me a strained smile as she tugs at the collar of the jacket I’m wearing over my T-shirt. My cut is hanging safely in the closet at home.
Evanee is lookin’ smoking hot, if not a little more conservative than usual. She’s dressed in a tight skirt down to her knees, the usual high heels, but she’s wearing a looser blouse.
We’re barely up the stairs when the whole family comes out the door. Based on the briefing Evanee gave me on the way over here, I’m up-to-date on who’s who. There’s mom and dad and Evanee’s older brother, Mason, and his wife, Jennifer. Evanee’s sister, Alison, the oldest, is in her thirties and still not married. Not to be uncharitable, but the girl unfortunately takes after her dad.
