AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s a crude thing to say. Not the words, the meaning. He’s never, even when he’d been so mad at me, he broke things, spoke to me like that.
And I don’t think he’s changed that much, not the core of him.
I’ve never mistaken Diego’s treatment of me to mean he’s not dangerous. He always has been there inside. But now? He knows who he is and what he can do, and I think he could be more dangerous than ever.
I also think he’s a good man.
No matter what he did in the past.
“That’s not you.”
“How the fuck do you know, Nadia?” But he gently pushes me away and picks up the bottle, taking a swig. He puts it down and, back to me, gripping the edge of the counter he sighs. “There’s a lot of time between us. We don’t know shit about each other. Not anymore.”
“Except . . .” I bite my lip.
“Yeah, but that’s just residue attraction and nothing more. And this thing? I’ll look into it, as I said.”
I nod and smooth my hair like we got down and dirty. “I’m not good at that.” Heat burns as I realize how that sounded. “Waiting around like a weakling, I mean. There was a thing, women’s lib.”
“Fuck that shit.” Now he turns and his eyes are dark, wildfire. “Have you handled a gun?”
“I can shoot.” I’ve been to the shooting range to learn when I thought maybe I should have one at home, but the idea turned my stomach so much, I stopped going. But I don’t say that to him.
“Know how to use a knife? Beat the shit out of someone? Fight off a man my size who wants to fuckin’ hurt you bad? When was the last time you stepped into a gang situation?”
My eyes blur and I squeeze them. I’m not a crier. “What does that matter?”
“When I say I’ll take care of this, it’s not about dissing women’s liberation or equality or anything like that. It’s about what you can and can’t do. You can’t do this. You freaked out over the kid having a gun and that tells me a lot.”
“That I’m a good guardian that is horrified when a teenager has a gun?” I ask.
“You’re that, yeah. But it tells me you aren’t used to guns. It tells me you don’t have a safe for a firearm, and it tells me you freaked instead of getting angry about illegal weapons and the like. And that’s fuckin’ good. I’m glad you don’t think that way.”
“And you do?”
Diego glances at me and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, Longstocking, I fuckin’ do. But . . .” He reaches behind him and pulls out a gun, then slides it back to the small of his back. “I know guns.”
I take an involuntary step back and it’s not lost on him.
The smile this time is touched with cynicism. “I came to help, so that’s what I’m gonna do. No need at an awkward attempt at seduction, I’ll sort it out and get Jay back home. Catch you later.”
Diego doesn’t give me a chance to answer, he just walks past me and leaves. The sound of the front door closing the only thing, apart from the tequila, to remind me he was here at all.
* * *
I can’t sleep. In the end, I go and find some milk and cookies. Such a cliché kid that I smile.
Curling on the sofa, I turn on the TV to some terrible show full of too-bright and happy people, dunk a cookie into the milk, and munch it.
Not being able to sleep is not a shock. I’m freaking stressed. The whole thing with Jay, my job, the extra classes I wanted . . . and now Diego.
He’s different and the same. I get it, we all grow and change, but the fundamental core is the same. The way he left, the way he wouldn’t tell me much, it all creeps into my bones and whispers things in the dark.
Like I know he thinks there’s big trouble.
He’s always been the guy to shoulder it all, protect those he thinks needs it like me. What once comforted now annoys.
I’m not a kid, no longer eighteen.
