After Hours (InterMix)(84)

I wandered back down the driveway to Kelly. He’d installed a wishbone-shaped thing to his truck’s hitch, and was crouching with a jack now, lining the prongs up with the front of my car.

“You work quick. Everything—”

“That’s him, huh?” Kelly didn’t look up from his chore, just hoisted my car another inch with each crank on the jack’s lever. When I didn’t answer, he jerked his chin up and stared me dead in the face. “That’s him? The one who gave you a black eye?”

I shook my head. “Don’t.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Kelly, please. Don’t. It’s not your business.”

His eyebrow twitched, telling me he did in fact think it was his business, but then he went back to the task at hand.

I leaned against his truck. “I’m asking you as a favor, please don’t make a thing of it.”

He finished with the jack and brushed past me to dump it in his bed, pulling out a mess of wires. “Why don’t you tell that guy to come outside, so I can have a word with him?”

My arms locked across my chest reflexively. “I’m not doing that.”

And Kelly said nothing for the next ten minutes while he ran cords between the two vehicles and tested my blinkers and brake lights. It was eating me up, not knowing what he was going to do.

“We’re just about set here.” He wiped his hands on a clean rag, then tossed it in the bed. “Lemme just take care of that other issue, then I’ll get you home.” He headed for the house.

“Kelly, don’t. Seriously—don’t.” I grabbed his forearm, but he twisted loose with a practiced flick of his wrist.

“Kelly. Please.”

He just kept striding, pulled the door open and held it long enough for me to precede him inside.

Jack was playing on the floor, and Amber and Marco were sitting on the couch with beers, watching something noisy on the television. Marco had shitty hearing from working on road crews, and I hated how he blasted everything and said, “Huh?” all the time. I hated lots of things about him.

“How’s the car coming along?” Amber asked. Marco kept his eyes on the screen. It was embarrassingly obvious how little he relished being only the second-biggest man in a given room.

“Car’s just about ready,” Kelly said. “But I need a word with your man here. Outside.”

Marco’s head jerked up. “Word about what?”

“Word about that black eye you gave my friend the other week.”

Marco got to his feet and set his beer on the coffee table with a thunk. “She—”

“You raise your voice in front of that kid and we’ll be having more than just the one word,” Kelly said, deadly calm.

Foam had erupted from the beer bottle and Amber scrambled to pull picture books and magazines out of its spreading tide.

Kelly had turned his back on us, heading for the door. Marco shot me a killing look. I could’ve told him I had nothing to do with this duel, but f*ck him for leering at me that way. Let him think I’d sicced this bruiser on his sorry ass.

He left us, exiting thirty seconds behind Kelly.

“Oh shit,” Amber said softly.

“Ship,” Jack agreed, and held up a toy boat to show us.

I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. Outside, Marco’s voice flared with words I couldn’t make out. “Just keep Jack inside. I’ll be back.” I pulled out my phone as I shoved through the door, ready to call the cops if it got ugly.

It had already gotten ugly. The men were nearly chest-to-chest in the dusky light, Marco seething and shouting, Kelly impassive.

“And exactly what f*cking business is it of yours?” Marco demanded.

I couldn’t make out Kelly’s reply.

A deep shiver went through me as I imagined what must be happening in his head, smelling Marco’s beer breath, feeling his warm spittle. Was he back in high school, scrapping with his drunk stepdad?

“I didn’t give her no black eye. She fell. She keyed my truck and spat at me.”

I caught a snatch of Kelly’s stoic reply, something about, “Self-defense? Against a hundred-pound girl?”

“Who in the f*ck told you this was your business?!”

Holy hell. Was this my nephew’s future? Getting cussed out by his drunk father, same as Kelly had? I turned, finding Amber watching from the window, Jack in her arms. I glowered and waved at her to get the f*ck away, get her son’s eyes off this train wreck. She tossed her hair and disappeared toward the kitchen.