Page 36 of Devil's Due

It strikes me she’s not the only blind person here. I’m used to being able to stare someone down, to see their pupils change with different emotions, to use their small giveaways to see into their souls. As her eyes give nothing away, I’m relying on other clues just as she leans on her senses.

“We need to talk,” I tell her again.

“I don’t think so.” Her hands raise, she moves closer until they touch my chest. She pushes but has no chance of moving me even an inch. “Please leave.”

“No. Not without you listening to what I have to say.”

“I don’t have to talk to you. I don’t want you in my home. I’m very grateful for your help with Max, but now, pleaseleave.”

I’m conscious she’s starting to look unnerved, and I can’t blame her for that. She’s got six foot five of well-muscled biker standing uninvited in her house. I slide a card out of my cut, and hand it over to her, pressing her fingers against it.

“Read that.”

“What?” she almost screams at me. Then her mouth opens in an O, and her other hand comes up to hold it. Her forefinger traces the front.

“SD Security Colorado. Dwayne CarsonSecurity Consultant?Who’s that?”

“Me.” As of this morning. Well, obviously it’s my true government name, but the job is new.

“You had this made special,” she throws at me accusingly. “No one walks around carrying business cards in braille. Not unless there’s one hell of a lot of blind people you do business with.”

“Nope. Just one. You’re right. Made that special. But I wanted you to know who I was and doubted you’d listen otherwise.”

“So what else is fake? Just how long has this company been in existence?”

“A few months. It’s a new business venture we’ve been getting into.”

She shakes her head, disbelieving. “Are you going to tell me that’s why you came to Pueblo? To join a security company?” Then she frowns and says contemptuously, “What are you then, the muscle?”

My hand snakes out and slides around the back of her neck. She jumps at my sudden touch, but I don’t feel apologetic. “I might be muscular, babe, but I’ve got a fuckin’ brain as well. I won’t be dismissed as nothing more than brawn by anyone, not even you.” She’s touched on a sensitive point. All the times Drummer had me going to meets just as a dumb-ass threat. All I needed to do was stand looking like I could kill someone with my bare hands. I didn’t object but had had to bite my tongue more than once, feeling frustrated I couldn’t add to the discussion, particularly when I saw a point someone had let slide.

“I’m sorry.”

Releasing her as the apology comes, I step away, giving her space. “Stevie, come sit down. Let me talk to you.”

She knows she can’t physically remove me from her house, and her requests have failed. Her shoulders slump, but before she moves to the couch, she has one more thing to say, “You can talk to me,Dwayne, doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.”

How long was it since someone called me by my real name? Even Sally hadn’t used it. Coming from Stevie’s mouth in that softly spoken voice shouldn’t have caused my cock to twitch, but it did.

Forcing my brain to kick back into gear, and my dick back under control, I nod, agreeing to her terms. Hoping she’ll change her mind when she hears me out.

“Beef, I can’t see if you’re nodding or shaking your head.”

“I’m agreeing, babe, sorry.”

It’s her turn to raise and dip her head, then she walks straight to the couch, sitting down on one end. As before, I sit on the other side, and the sagging cushions dip. Her head tilts expectantly.

“Your name isn’t Stevie Nichols,” I begin, ignoring her sharp intake of breath. “It’s hard, isn’t it, when you choose a new identity? Hard to respond to a name that isn’t your own? You risk ignoring people however good your hearing is and stumbling over giving a handle when you can’t remember it. So you choose something you wouldn’t forget. You a fan of Stevie Nicks? Your parents’ favourite singer?”

She makes no move, not admitting or agreeing to anything. But if we were wrong, she’d have denied it by now.

“You could be a criminal, or you’re in witness protection, or you’re just running as you don’t want to be found.” I pass a hand over my face. “I might not know you, but from the little interaction we’ve had, I don’t reckon it’s you that’s done wrong.”

If I had a statue sitting beside me, it wouldn’t have been more still. Only the slight rise and fall of her chest gives away she’s a living woman.

“You’ve got family, yet you’re in a strange town without them. You can work anywhere, as you said, so why here? Why not stay where it’s familiar? Because you had to get away. Because someone is after you.”

I can almost see the wheels whirring in her head. Eventually she responds, “Perhaps I’m escaping an abusive relationship.”

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