But as I looked up at the man who I thought was my friend and had just, barely an hour ago, offered to go kill someone for me, I frowned. He was staring, really staring, down at my toolbox. And as furious as his expression had been when I told him about my ex, it was nothing compared to the one that he had right then.
What was wrong with my box?
I toed it, glancing back and forth between it and him, not understanding. “It was my brother’s. I kept it after we sold most of his stuff, but it made me too sad and my best friend painted it for me. I thought it was fun. They look like those Giga Pets I used to have when I was a kid,” I explained. “They’re puppies. Who doesn’t like puppies?”
The exhaled, “Jesus fucking Christ,” had me frowning at Dallas.
I watched as both his hands went up to his head and he cupped each side of his skull, interlacing his fingers at the top.
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly getting a little frustrated at his reaction.
He didn’t seem to hear me as he sighed, the sound distraught and almost furious.
“What the hell did I do?” I asked him, not understanding but wanting to.
Dallas was still focused on the toolbox when he answered me, his voice thick and strained. “I can’t do this tonight, Diana. I can’t fucking do this right now.”
“Do what?”
“You’re—” He closed his eyes and covered them with his palms for a moment before dropping his arms at his sides. He finally raised his gaze to mine, something in those hazel irises looking pained as he said, “I’ll help you build it. Don’t ask your dad. I just can’t do it right now. Okay?”
“That’s all right.” I took in his stricken features all over again. “Are you okay?”
He lifted a hand but didn’t confirm yes or no. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He took a step back and eyed my toolbox one more time, his chest taking a big inhale and a bigger exhale. “Night.”
“Goodnight,” I called out to him as he turned and headed out of the backyard through the gate, closing it behind him. Then he was jogging across the street and disappearing up his pathway to his deck.
What the hell had just happened?
Chapter Nineteen
Iknewbefore I even opened my eyes that Louie was standing by the side of the bed again. I just fucking knew, but it didn’t scare me any less.
“There’s a fire,” he whispered immediately before I could remind him he needed to quit scaring me in the middle of the night.
And, just like that, at his words, I sat straight up in bed and took a big inhale. “What?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t be lying about something like that.
“The house is on fire,” he barely had to say before I threw the covers back, reaching for my phone at the same time.
“Our house?” I pretty much screeched, my thumb already hitting 9-1.
“No,” he answered. His little hands went to mine and squeezed. “The granny’s house.”
“Who?” I blinked.
“The granny. The old lady,Tia,remember? Miss Pearly?”
“Oh shit,” came out of my mouth before I could censor myself.
Louie backed up and tugged at my fingers. “Come on.”
I went, resisting the urge to finish dialing the emergency number until I saw it. I mean, there could be a fire over there, but it didn’t have to mean it was a house fire… didn’t it? Not that there would be a reason why anyone would be having a bonfire at a ninety-something-year-old’s house. Louie ran down the hallway that led toward the living room, and I followed behind, glued to his grasp. I’d forgotten to close the curtains so I saw the yellows and oranges and reds before I even made it to the window. He hadn’t been exaggerating.
Miss Pearl’s house was on fire.
At least the back of it was from what I could see. The porch was untouched by the flames licking at the sides by where I knew her bedroom was.
Holy fuck. Her bedroom!
