Knox snorts at the thought, and I smile. I say, “We could drop a bomb next to his head, and he might roll over, but that’d be about it. When he’s out like this, he’s gone.”
Lou wipes syrup from her lip with her thumb. “Does Troy ever notice what he does to people?”
“Not in time to stop himself.”
“Do you think he’ll try to make trouble if I go back for my things?”
“He’ll try to make noise. But that’s usually all he does.”
She glances away. “Yesterday, he started making fists before he stepped toward me. I don’t…” She sighs. “It’s over. But that freaked me out.”
I hate that I even have to ask this. “Has he ever hit you?”
“No. But yesterday was the first time I thought he might.”
I catch Knox’s eye, he nods once, and we both know what it means. Troy has gone off the deep end. Even if he never hit her before, women have a sixth sense about these things.
I hate this. But I won’t ignore it. And I won’t let her near him alone. “We swing by Sagebrush first.” I pour her water. “It’s on the way. And then we’ll get your things.”
Her mouth forms a small half smile. “Okay.”
“You make a list. We take it all. If he’s there, I handle him. If he’s not, we move quick.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We finish eating. Knox collects plates without a word. Salem groans, rolls over, and immediately falls back asleep.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Give me five,” she says. “I want to brush my teeth and put on shoes that won’t make me hate myself.”
“Take ten.”
She disappears into her bedroom with a nod.
Knox leans against the bar. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
He looks at the door, then back at me. “We’re not heroes.”
“No.”
“I know how you are, Houston. You don’t have to be the white knight and save her. Lou’s strong. She can save herself.”
I sigh at that. “Yeah, I’m sure she can. She’s been doing it for long enough. But what if people didn’t have to save themselves all the time? Don’t you think she wants a break from that? A hand? Anything?”
His forehead lines with thoughts. “Yeah. Probably.”
“She’s on her own, Knox. No brothers to help. No sisters to cry to. No parents to lean on. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting her lean on us for a day.”
“You big Boy Scout.”
I snort a laugh. “Yeah, well. You know me.”
“I do. That’s why I’m bringing it up.”
Lou comes out in a tank top and leggings, hair up, simple makeup that makes her look like herself. Sneakers. That locket with the sad story. A glittering reminder of why I want to help her.
