Page 75 of Give Me Redemption

It’s my boys.

All of them.

Adams, Banister, Rocket, and Davidson. It’s only a few photos, but I cherish those things.

I walk into the living room and she looks up at me. “Friends?”

I hand her a beer. “Yeah. Those were my boys.”

“Were?” she asks, twisting the top and taking a sip.

I take my hat off and toss it onto the table. I run a hand over my face and sit down. I stare at the photos on the table. Rocket’s arm is over Adam’s shoulder. They’re both smiling, and I can remember when that photo was taken.

“You’re getting married?” I ask Adams as I sit down and pull my boots off. After a ten-hour shift, I’m fucking exhausted. Marks from my boots and socks cover my feet, and my fucking balls are sweaty as hell. I need a shower, but I don’t have time if I want to get in another nap before we go on patrol. There’s been some shit going down on the east side of the village, and we’ve been instructed to go check it out.

“She said yeah, man.” Adams has never looked happier. It’s contagious.

“Well, fuck yeah,” Rocket says, walking in and putting his gun down. “I told you she would.” He sits down on Adam’s cot and throws his arm around his shoulder.

Both men are smiling, and I grab my phone from the bed. “Look at me, motherfuckers.”

“You okay?” she asks me, taking a seat at the other end of the sofa.

I snap out of it. “I’m all right,” I say, giving her a closed smile.

She narrows her eyes. “How come I don’t believe you?” She kicks off her shoes and twists on the couch, putting her feet up.

I look at her on my couch, making herself at home. I find myself wishing it was always like this. There’s so much I want to know about her. I’ve been nothing but open, but she has not been easy to get to know. I stand up and walk to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” she asks. I open the cabinet and pull out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

“How about we play a game?” I say, coming back in.

She lifts a brow. “What kind?”

“We ask each other a question. We don’t have to answer, but if not, you have to take a shot.”

She gets an uneasy expression on her face before she takes a drink. “Okay,” she says, sitting up. “Can I go first?”

“Shoot.” I place the bottle and shot glasses down.

“How long has your brother owned Red?”

I look up, trying to think…I was sixteen. “A little over ten years.” That was an odd question to ask. Why does she even care? “My turn,” I say.

“Go on,” she replies.

“How long have you been a librarian?”

She bites her inner cheek. “About the same amount of time Bryce has owned Red.”

I nod. “So you’re around his age then?”

“Na-ah. That’s two questions, Grant.”

I smile, liking that she called me Grant. “My bad.”

“I think you should have to take a shot.”

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