“Well, I’m here when you’re ready.”
“Copy that.”
I aimed my gaze at the fire, but my eyes inevitably strayed over to where Kitten was curled up on his sleeping bag. His mouth was part way open, hands folded under one soft cheek, face surrounded by a cloud of hair. I took off my leather jacket and draped it over his shoulders then found one for Teresa as well. The cat flicked its tail in warning but didn’t hiss at me this time.
“He’s fitting in,” Macon said, his Southern accent pouring out slow and drowsy in the quiet night.
“He’s a menace,” I said. Jury was still out on whether or not he gutted me in my sleep.
“You like him.” Macon nudged me with the bottle’s spout before offering it to me. I took a long swig and relished the burn of liquor as it scraped down my throat.
“I tolerate him, just like I tolerate the rest of you.”
“Probably wouldn’t take much to get him to like you too.”
“Macon, I killed his mother.”
“It was a mercy killing. Doesn’t count.”
“I doubt he’d agree.”
“He is kind of cute though,” Macon said, poking at the fire with a stick, sending up sparks of ash and stirring up the glowing embers. “You think he likes dick?”
“Fuck if I know,” I answered testily. “Besides, he looks about fifteen.”
“Nah, that’s just malnutrition. He told Teresa he was seventeen.”
“He’s been living in isolation with only his mother and brother for company for years. He’s like a homeschooled kid—worse than that, he’s a plague kid.”
“Plague kid or not, I’d bet he’s horny as fuck. I know I was at that age.”
“You’restillthat age,” I reminded him because he was only a year older than Kitten, but to hear him tell it, he’d been a playboy since he first sprouted wood.
He flexed his biceps. “You think he appreciates a fine physique?”
“I think he likes being fed and kept safe, and we’re not going to take advantage of that.”
“We’re?” he asked with a wink.
“Fuck you,” I said and threw another stick on the fire.
“I’m just saying, your right hand must be getting tired by now.”
“This hand is immaculate,” I said and flexed my fingers.
“Artemis is like your sister. Teresa’s out of the question and Gizmo’s not interested. I could probably be convinced to swing your way, but… you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Macon and Artemis were a thing. Neither of them talked about it or expressed it openly, but I’d seen enough to draw my own conclusions.
“I’m not interested in bedding down with Kitten,” I told him. “And if I find out you’re trying to shoot your shot…”
“What’re you gonna do?” he asked with an arrogant smile.
“Challenge you to a duel at high noon,” I said because it was the one face-off with him I’d probably win.
“In other words, don’t touch your shit, eh? Heard, Romeo.” He stood and scratched his navel, belched and glanced around. “I gotta take a piss. You’ll take care of this for me?” He motioned to the fire.
