Page 83 of Be Mine Forever

“Wasn’t trying to be. Who would want to live here forever anyway?”

“Then get out.” Low and earnest, Cam’s words reached Jo’s ears.

“And do what?” Deuce’s voice turned rocky. “Work at McDonald’s? Walmart? Give me rich and short over poor and long any day.”

“Just get out. I’ll help you.”

“What, tit for tat? I helped you and you want to help me?”

For the first time since they’d started talking, Cam’s eyes flicked to Jo. He looked back to Deuce before Jo could read him.

“I know you think it’s too late, Deuce, but it’s not.”

“Man, this ain’t no after-school special.” Deuce firmed his lips, and all signs of affability vanished. He was the scorpion again. “We’re different.”

“We just made different choices.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about choices?” Deuce flashed a barbed smile. “Should I tell your girlfriend here about the choices that got you out of this hellhole?”

The look Cam gave Deuce was a loaded pistol. He started packing his paints into the saddlebag, movements controlled, but Jo knew him. A cyclone whipped around inside him. And she, fool that she was, instead of taking shelter, stepped into the eye of the storm. She walked over to Cam, taking his hand, asking him if everything was okay with just a glance. He hesitated, nodding, eyes clearing the longer he looked at her.

“Let’s go,” he said, hand at the small of her back and walking her over to the Harley.

“I’m sorry.” Deuce’s voice held no contrition, but the fact that he hadn’t unleashed any of the dark power at his disposal onto them in his anger said a lot.

Cam settled the helmet on Jo’s head and helped her onto the back of the bike before he faced Deuce.

“She’s off-limits.” Cam’s eyes sliced through the thick air separating the two men like a knife. “You don’t use her to threaten me. You don’t know her name, and I don’t want you to. Forget you met her.”

“I said I’m sorry. I crossed a line.”

“You sure as hell did.” Cam pointed to Jo. “That’s my line. Any of your shit ever touches her, I don’t care if you’re the biggest player in the game, I’ll find a way to make you pay.”

Deuce swiped a big hand over his eyes, shaking his head.

“I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah, you are.” Cam picked up his helmet, tucking it under his arm. He ran a hand over his wild hair, sucking his teeth in exasperation, a softer form of anger. “But it was good to see you.”

Deuce’s face lightened with a tentative smile.

“So we good?”

Cam held on to the last bits and pieces of the tension between them for a few more moments before relinquishing a small grin.

“We’re good.”

“So when you gon’ paint me?”

Cam climbed onto the bike, crossing his hand over the hand Jo placed on his stomach.

“Paint you? Like you’d want that.”

Deuce somehow married cynicism and wistfulness in a laugh.

“You said yourself it’s not an old man’s game. Your painting may be the only thing to remember me by.”

Cam started the bike and revved the engine, foot pressing to the gas.

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