Serenity.
She’s invaded my brain. Waltzed on in and taken charge. Thoughwaltzedis the wrong word.
I can’t stop thinking about her up on that stage at Surly’s. The way she moved. The way she danced. It was mesmerizing. And to watch and listen to those guys whistling for her… I’d never experienced jealousy like it until that night. Watching them watching her, half-naked, I wanted to take out every motherfucker in that room. Beat his ass to a pulp.
Am I still mad at her for not telling me? Yes.
Does it mean I feel any differently about her? I keep telling myself that it should.
But she’s all I’ve thought about since the moment I left her in that parking lot.
When I’m finished, I push my plate away. Wipe my mouth on the napkin one final time. I hear the front door slam and River enters the kitchen, tossing her book bag and kicking off her shoes.
‘Hail to the king,’ she mutters in an understated kind of way. ‘How long you been back?’
‘Not that long. How was school?’
She gives a nonchalant shrug. ‘School was school.’
‘That kid give you any beef? What was his name again?’
‘Scottie Lincoln. No, I don’t think he was there today.’
‘Good.’
‘Congrats on your win.’
‘Thanks. You watch the whole thing?’
‘Of course. That was a sweet catch in the third quarter. Was Cleveland nice?’
‘I don’t know. All I saw was a stadium and the inside of a hotel room.’
We hear an engine out front. I crane my neck. It’s followed by a car door slam, and it sounds like it’s close by. I get to my feet and take my empty plate to the sink.
‘You expecting visitors?’ I ask River.
‘No. Are you?’
‘Nope.’
I go past River and walk to the front door, stepping out onto the front porch. A car has pulled up outside close to the kerb, its trunk wide open. On the near side, the passenger door is open. I frown as I witness Scottie Lincoln helping a second young guy from the passenger seat into a wheelchair. The other guy is taller than Scottie, broader too, and is wearing a high school varsity jacket and blue jeans.
‘Uh, hey.’ Scottie Lincoln raises his voice when he sees me. ‘Give us a minute.’
I watch as the second guy takes control of the chair and wheels himself onto the sidewalk.
I frown. ‘You fellas want something?’ I ask.
Scottie Lincoln looks awkward. ‘This here is my older brother, Wylder.’
‘Hey,’ Wylder says, keeping hold of the rims on the wheels. ‘Nice to meet you. We wondered if River is home.’
My frown has morphed into more of a menacing stare. ‘How do you know River lives here?’
Just at that moment, River comes barging out of the door onto the porch. She looks at me and the two men. ‘What’s going on?’
I lean my head toward them. ‘Scottie brought along his brother. Wylder.’
