Page 24 of Keep You Close

“Push me to the door,” I demanded, starting to scoot myself.

“Yo, it’s Mark,” Mark Mallick, my brother-in-law’s voice, called from the other side of the door.

“Christ, you scared the fuck outta us,” I told him as AJ opened the door.

“Sorry,” he said, giving AJ one of his charming smiles. “You look like shit,” he said to me.

“Thanks, man. Nice seeing you too. What’s all of that?” I asked, nodding behind him.

“Kingston said you could use some adaptations to make life easier for a while. I got a bunch of rails for the bathroom. And some other shit. I know it’s early, but I wanted to get it done before AJ left for the day. Hey, AJ,” he said.

“Hi,” AJ said, gaze lowering. “I, ah, I’ll get out of your way,” she said, rushing back off to the kitchen.

“She’s real pretty,” Mark said with a devious little smirk.

“Don’t even fucking start,” I demanded.

Mark Mallick was known for a few things. Being a loanshark enforcer. Running his own lawn service and handyman company to wash the dirty money from the loansharking thing. And, of course, running bets. Only within the family. Usually about who was gonna get hooked up next, or who was gonna have a baby, or what gender the baby might be.

Mark had a pool going for everything.

Even though he literally never fucking won a bet.

“Start?” he asked, lips twitching. “Already got all the bets placed. Heard the set-up, and that AJ is gorgeous. It was a natural progression from there.”

“I’ll put my money on It’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on, man. Even I’m not that stupid,” he said, grabbing his shit, and making his way down the hallway.

The rest of the day was eaten up by Kingston coming back over and taking me to the orthopedic doctor, who mostly agreed with the Swiss ones, but gave me some hope that my ribs would feel a decent bit better in another week and a half.

My fingers, he thought, would take three or more months to get their strength fully back.

Four to six weeks in the sling for my rotator cuff, since it was minor.

The pinched nerve was subjective with some people getting mostly better in weeks, while others had flares for years.

And the leg, yeah, the leg was going to keep me down for a while. Then take a while in rehab too.

It seemed like we were looking at three to six months recovery.

“You could at least try to act like it won’t be a complete nightmare to be stuck in Navesink Bank with us,” Kingston said as I stared out the window on the way home.

“That’s not it,” I said. Though, yeah, to some extent, I guess it was. Being stuck. That had never been a good feeling for me. It wasn’t about my family. It was just the entire concept of putting down roots.

“You could get to really know your nieces and nephews,” he said. “Sit at Charlie and Helen’s table again. Talk to your siblings for more than five snatched minutes before you catch a flight.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. While, inwardly, I knew that all of those things would make it harder to leave when it was time.

But that was shit I didn’t want to think about.

So I focused on what AJ might be making for dinner instead.

And if I might see her walking around pants-less and braless again.

Fuck.

Maybe I was going to lose money on that bet with Mark…

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