Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(33)

I’m dead in my tracks.

Dead with a capital D, stick a fork in my temple now, please.

“Fuck.” I don’t say it loud enough for Nick to hear me.

“Plus I mighta told her you have a girlfriend.”

Say…

“What?” I pose to jump his ass. My plan is to kick it. Hard.

“There’s that look again.”

“What in the hell would make you tell her something like that?”

He shrugs a shoulder at me. “She’s also expecting you to bring her with you tomorrow.”

“Why?”

My f*cking eyebrow itches again.

“Why would you do this to me? Have I killed any pets of yours this week? Did I offend your f*cking wife? Just tell me, Nick.”

His huge shoulders bob with each chuckle he lets out. “Relax, Jackie, it’s not the end of the world to be in a relationship, you know. In fact, Mia and I are very─”

LALALALALALAAAH!

“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Nick. I’m already scarred for life from Thanksgiving two-thousand.” I turn and stalk up the rest of the way to my apartment. He’s following me again.

“Hey, nobody told you to walk in on us in the middle of the night. That’s what married people do.”

“I didn’t walk in on you, Nick. You were in my room. I needed sleep.”

“You needed to pass out, ya mean. And it was our room, Jackie.”

Details.

“Is there a point to this conversation?” I can’t take it anymore. I have to say, though, this sucks.

If I tell him to f*ck off and Ma has to drive all the way over here just for me to say no, she’s gonna be pissed. If I say yes, she’ll still be pissed because I shoulda just said yes in the first f*cking place.

I’m screwed.

Again, “Fuck.”

“You just realized you’re screwed here, didn’t you?”

The sigh I let out tells him all he needs to know.

“Okay then. I’ll pick you up at─”

“I’ll drive myself.” What am I, ten?

“Sorry, bro, I promised Ma you’d be there. It’s my ass if you turn out to be a no-show. I’ll be here around five. Be ready.”

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and… f*ck me. I kick the railing and throw a hand up. I give.

“Fine.”

“Sweet.” He claps his hands like he’s a used car salesman who just signed his last deal of the day.

The only problem is, he’s still expecting to come inside.

“Uh, look, Nick. The place is a mess.”

“So?” He laughs and tries to push past me. I stop his ass.

“Fine. I’ve got someone inside, and I don’t want it to get awkward, so…” It’s all I’ve got. Not exactly a lie. Just an insinuated one.

With Nick being the gentleman he is, it’s all I need.

He holds his hands up and backs off. Thank you, God.

“Say no more.” He leans toward me and whispers. “But, dude, I wouldn’t let Emma find out. That one’s a firecracker.”

He winks and punches my arm. First of all, ow. But secondly, “She’s not─”

“Just bring someone, Jackie. You know how Ma gets,” he tells me on his way back down the stairs. His steps are triumphant. And I’m this close to throwing a pen at the back of his head.

“Why’d you bring a cop here, man?” Jimmy asks in a panicked voice from behind a cracked doorway. Nick gets into his cruiser and waves a hand as he pulls out into the road.

I wave back and answer Stix out of the side of my mouth.

“I didn’t.”

He opens the door wider and steps out onto the platform next to me as the cruiser pulls out. Then he lets out a sigh of relief.

“I thought you set me up, sent ’em to come get me.”

This kid is almost as paranoid as I am.

Almost.

“Not gonna happen, Jimmy.”

“Promise?”

“Yep.”

I start inside and click my teeth, looking for Frodo. And my cigarette. Jimmy’s right behind me. I may as well have two cats.

“So who was that?”

“Just a guy.” I open the bedroom door. Frodo’s not on the bed.

“Why was he here?”

“None of your business.” I check the pantry. Sometimes he gets himself stuck in there trying to get at the treats.

“You in trouble?”

“You know what, kid? I think I liked you better when you weren’t talking so much. Where’s my cat?”

“He was meowing a bunch so I fed him, and he took off out the bathroom window. That was like, ten-fifteen minutes ago.”

Damn cat.

“Okay, well, what about you? You eat?”

I do a visual sweep of the apartment to see if anything looks, I don’t know, out of place.

Jimmy’s face scrunches up. “That bread is stale and the peanut butter looked gross.”

“What?” I walk over to the kitchen counter and open up the jar. I sniff it, then I proceed to gag.

It definitely smells like sweaty balls. What’s the expiration date on this shit, anyway?

“Okay.” I toss the jar into the trash and head back for the door. “How do you feel about subs?”