He stiffens, and I immediately pull back.
“Sorry. Shouldn’t have hugged you without asking.”
“Yeah, I don’t…” He lets out a ninety-year-old sigh, touching his ponytail. “Hugs are usually okay, but they’re hard sometimes too.”
“Seriously, dude. I want, like, five minutes alone in a room with your grandfather.”
He finally turns and meets my eyes with a fierce sort of determination. “Me too. Actually, I have a very long list of names of people I’d like to revisit.”
“You kept a list?” I ask, shocked.
He taps his temple. “Yep. Memorized every single one of them. Wrote them down when I got to the Bashes to get them out of my head, but…I want them all dead.”
He continues to look into my eyes, searching for my response.
Tapping my teardrop tattoo, I meet his confession with one of my own. “I’ve killed two men, Ant. One was terrorizing my neighborhood, and the other was trying to rape me in my cell. Both times I nearly threw up. Couldn’t stand the thought of taking a life. But if we ever run across someone who hurt you like that? I’ll kill him with my bare hands, and I won’t think twice about it.”
He runs his hand along his ponytail and returns to looking out the window. “Yeah?”
“Anything for you, little brother.”
“Thank you, Nacho.”
I pull out of the parking lot, and we ride in silence as we make our way over to the new project, a bit of newly developed land right outside the city limits.
Bonnie Mullins, our project contact, waits as we pull into the drive. She waves us over with a broad grin.
“On time and everything,” she says, smiling genuinely. “I appreciate that.”
I set aside Ant’s and my conversation and put on a professional smile. “We try to keep as close to the schedule as possible. By the way, I’m Nacho, and this is Ant.”
“Nacho and Ant, got it. I’m Bonnie. Just you two working on this?”
“Yes, ma’am. This is actually a pretty easy installation since it’s a chain-link fence. We’ll spend today putting in the posts, let them cure overnight, and come back tomorrow morning to add the fencing. After that, you’ll be good to go.”
“Excellent. My dogs are anxious to have a yard,” she says, pointing to the two monsters behind her.
“Shit,” Ant says, stepping back.
I agree. They’re quiet. And they’re staring us down like they’re calculating the manner in which they’d like to kill us and eat our entrails.
She sees his reaction, and her eyes go wide. “Oh no. They look vicious, but that’s all a big smoke screen. I promise, once they know you mean me no harm, they’re sweet as pie.”
“Those are some huge German Shepherds,” I say, grimacing. Fuck, their teeth are big andsharp.
She nods. “I worked with a lady who trains and sells them. She’s a little rough around the edges, but when I said I was a little nervous being a single woman out in the sticks, she said she had a bonded pair I might like. She trained them to be nearly silent and to take German commands, but I’m teaching them English,” she says with a giggle.
Ugh. First of all, I’m flattered she feels safe enough around Ant and me to talk about the fact that she lives alone. Hell, Ilooklike an ex-con, no matter how nicely I dress. Women, way more than men, tend to read somethingsafeabout me, and I’m kinda proud of that fact.
It’s just…I know the German commands are athing, but it’s something I saw with the skinheads from my old neighborhood. Like they wanted to be extra in their devotion to the Third Reich.
She must read something in my expression because she holds up her hands. “I’ll keep them inside the whole time, but I promise they are way more bark—er, death stare—than bite.”
Knowing it’ll make her feel better, I respond, “Honestly, they’re the perfect dogs for a single woman living alone. I’m glad you’re giving them a great yard to play in.”
The minor tension of the moment dissipates, and her smile returns.Win.
I grab the clipboard and have her sign the required documentation. She hands me back my rainbow flare pen, smiling. “Nice pen.”
