Two days later, I was still thinking about her.
All I could think about during my treadmill run was how her face had looked that night I’d picked her up from her job. As if she was completely and wholly surprised that I was there, like I said I’d be. As if she never expected anyone to keep their word.
When I switched to bench presses, I thought about how she looked when she talked about her creepy boss.
While doing squats, I thought about the look on her face when I brought her to my home—something I was sure she thought she was hiding, and wasn’t.
I knew all about her childhood home.
I’d looked into the past owners when I started remodeling it. A familiar name had come up on a bedroom wall when I’d stripped it free of wallpaper, and I’d been curious to know if the Birdee Calvert on the wall was the same one I knew in real life.
It was.
I’d confirmed it with none other than the man I was looking at across the gym as I headed for the exit, ready for the day in my uniform with my jacket slung over my forearm.
Vito, Cody, and Mable were talking animatedly in the corner of the reception area.
Birdee’s father looked rough.
He had a black eye, a split lip and his arm in a sling.
“Whoa,” I said as I got closer. “You look rough.”
I’d met Vito before everything with Mable, her stepmother, and father had gone down.
When I was in prison, I’d made it a rule to always work out and keep myself in shape in case I needed to fight my way out of a situation.
That habit had continued after my escape.
Now, I worked out at Vito’s gym several times a week when I had the time.
I’d seen the three of them all the time, along with Vito’s wife, Grace.
Who I’d never seen with them was Birdee. Not even after the shit show that was Mable’s stepmother and Birdee’s mother.
“I feel rough,” Vito admitted, offering me his one working hand. “How’s it going? Work going okay?”
“Okay,” I hedged. “I’m doing good. Much better than you and your daughter are right now.”
He frowned.
“You heard I hit your daughter with my company truck, right?” I asked when he looked between Cody and Mable. “Or more accurately, I stopped and she slid under my truck.”
Vito’s confusion cleared. “I did. She seems to be okay now, though. Working up a storm.”
More accurately, she was working because she needed the money, and couldn’t afford to take a day off. Or she was working because if she took time off, she’d be reminded that no one was in her corner, there to help her if she needed it.
But who was I to let him know her personal business?
“Where you headed?” I asked, changing the subject.
“To breakfast with my girls,” Vito answered. “Want to come?”
I was already shaking my head. “I have somewhere to be after this.” I looked between the three of them, wondering if I should ask about Birdee or not. Then decided…fuck it. “Tell Birdee hi for me when you see her for breakfast.”
Vito’s brows lowered. “Uh…”
“We didn’t ask her to breakfast.” Cody winced.
