“There’s nothin’ wrong with talkin’ to them about this job opportunity. Don’t ignore signs that the good Lord gives you,” Mama says, but I’m only half listenin’, my mind whirlin’ with what the hell to do.
“Just hear them out,” she says.
“You’re too trustin’ for your own good,” I tell her with a shake of my head.
“Heavenly Bell,” she begins before comin’ up and placin’ her hands on my shoulders so she can look in my eyes. “I trust that things are gonna be okay, because ofyou. Lord knows that you were left on our doorstep for a reason, and your daddy and I have loved you ever since. So yeah, I might trust the things that find their way to us without our askin’, but that’s because that’s how we got you, and you’re the best thing that ever happened to us.”
A sheen of moisture coats my eyes at her words, and I swallow thickly. “Thanks, Mama.”
She pats my shoulders and then places a kiss on my forehead. “Now go talk to those two very fine male specimens who have brought themselves to our door. At the very least, I’ll get to have a few more minutes of lookin’ at them.”
My mouth pops open with a surprised laugh. “Mama!”
“What?” she says with a shrug. “I think your daddy hangs the moon, but that don’t mean I don’t have eyes. Those two out there are hot enough to lick a campfire.”
“Oh Lord,” I say on a groan as Mama opens my bedroom door. She ain’t wrong, but damn.
“Go on, HB. Scoot,” she tells me, holdin’ out an arm for me to precede her.
I take a deep breath and walk out, not at all sure what the hell I’m walkin’ into. One thing’s for certain, though. I have a feelin’ that my life changed the moment I stepped foot onto Hairy Dog Tavern’s property.
And now...I’m either hallucinatin’ and crazy, or...somethin’ else. And damn it all if that somethin’ else doesn’t seem worse.
7
Ishut the door behind me, my mama’s hollers ofy’all be sure to come back now, ya hear?now muffled by the barrier. Flint has a wide grin on his face like he’s lovin’ every minute of this, but Alder is watchin’ me intently, as though if he just stares hard enough, he’ll be able to figure me out.
I move past them down the steps of the porch and further away from the trailer just in case my mama embraces her curious side and has a cup to the door or somethin’. I spot a couple golf balls in our yard and pick them up, droppin’ them in the half-full bucket next to the car port.
The two men watch me as though they’re in no hurry to get on with things, and I once again get the distinct impression that they’re studyin’ me somehow, like I’m an enigma to them or somethin’.
“Y’all ain’t mafia or somethin’, are you?” I ask, once again takin’ in their T-shirt and jeans and general casual vibe. They don’t scream gangsters, but I’ve only ever seen the Hollywood version, so really, what do I know? They did say they were interested in the things I’mcapable of, and that’s downright ominous. When the blackness hits, it’s like a hurricane that leaves nothin’ but broken things in its wake.
Alder snorts out a laugh at my question, and Flint gives me a smile that I know he thinks is sexy.
“You practice that grin?” I ask him, ignorin’ the butterflies that are once again flutterin’ around in my insides. “Bet you time yourself too, keep a log of just how long it takes between givin’ that smile and a girl’s panties endin’ up on the floor.”
My mama would give methe lookif she heard the rude tone I was usin’, but I can’t seem to help myself. They’re too pretty despite their odd appearance. There’s somethin’ a little too smooth and temptin’ about them, and I trust it about as much as I’d trust a dog to watch over a juicy steak.
“A minute six seconds is my best time to date,” Flint answers without missin’ a beat, and as much as I want to roll my eyes, there’s a part of me that’s wonderin’ if he just might be tellin’ the truth. I wouldn’t mind puttin’ that time to the test...
“No, we’re not mafia, and yes, he practices that grin,” Alder tells me evenly as he smoothly slips his hands into his front pockets.
Flint shoots him an unamused look before turnin’ back to me. “So, your parents are…” he trails off.
“Saints,” I fill in for him. “They’re also off-limits. Which means if I see you here again, uninvited, we’re gonna have an issue.” These two can pretend to be harmless, but an undercurrent of intuition tells me they’re anythin’ but.
Flint holds up his hands placatingly and tilts his head like he’s tryin’ to calm a spooked horse. “You’ll have no trouble from us, darlin’, but we’re worried you may run into some trouble on your own, or at least the other Guardians said Delta did when they first found her,” Flint offers, as though that should make sense to me.
It doesn’t.
My brow furrows. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“Well, we’re not exactly sure how it happened. We have theories, but we’re waiting to hear back from Rafferty and his Guardians to see if they can shed any more light on this. Strut said he wasn’t sure when they’d get back from their trip down under, so it may be a bit before we hear back.”
I blink at Alder, waitin’ for anythin’ to make a lick of sense, but it doesn’t. “Yeah, I’m still not catchin’ what you’re throwin’,” I tell him, completely bewildered.
The guys share another loaded look. I really wish they’d stop doin’ that.
