Page 67 of Secondhand Smoke
“How many times has that girl been here?” Ron asked as Barrett threw his keys onto the counter.
He wasn’t exactly going out of his way to hide Nell from his uncle, but he sure wasn’t planning on him finding out. For good reason.
“Just a few.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re still drooling over her after all these years.”
Twoyears since he graduated. Ron made it sound like ten.
“It isn’t like that.”
“Better not,” Ron said and put down the newspaper he might or might not have been reading. “I don’t trust her.”
Barrett frowned. “Lessons, Ron. Just lessons. I’m teaching her guitar.”
“So no other reason at all?”
“Are you planning on giving me the sex talk? Because, if so, you’re like five years too late.” He sighed and dropped ontothe couch next to Ron. “You don’t need to worry. She’s not interested. She wants to learn how to play guitar, so I offered to teach her, and sometimes she hangs out with us. It’s not a big deal.”
A sour frown twisted Ron’s lips as he lifted his coffee mug and sipped. “I’m guessing her parents don’t know.”
“No duh. They’d have a mob after us if they did.”
“She’s bad news.”
“That’s what everyone says about us.” Barrett scoffed. “Nell’s nice. She’s not scared of us. The guys love her. I don’t see what the harm is.”
This time Ron sighed, setting down his mug, and turned a stern eye on Barrett. Despite raising him, Ron rarely took on the grim role of a protective parent. But right then, he had the making of a blood father, ready to teach his son a lesson. “That girl has been through shit. The kind of shit that sticks with you. You can’t just wipe it off and move on; eventually, it becomes contagious. I can’t tell you what to do or not do, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So . . . be smart.”
Barrett was tempted to argue. Ron barely knew Nell, so how could he judge her based on rumors?
Barrett kept his mouth shut, however, when he saw the concern in Ron’s gray eyes, and he nodded. “I’m always smart.”
Ron raised a brow. “When you want to be.”
27 - Nell
The route to The Pour House was quickly becoming one of her favorites over the past few weeks, which was saying a lot in such a small town.
Not only that, but the band’s music was really starting to grow on her since she first heard it a month ago. She thought that if she really wanted to, she could singLay It Downword for word.
She always looked forward to their gigs. They made up for the ones in Bellevue that she couldn’t go to and saved her from self-seclusion away from her parents, who seemed to be growing extra interested in her recent outings. Outings she would never tell them the full details of.
However, her parents had eyes all over this town, and she was learning that she had to be more and more careful these days.
“Janelle!”
Nell pulled the brake and skidded to a stop on the sidewalk at the sound of her name coming from the grocery store parking lot. She found the old, white-haired Mrs. Dubois with her fake Midwestern niceties waddling over to her.
“Janelle! Hello!”
Nell forced a tight smile on and held the handlebars tighter. If she let go, she might give the impression she planned on staying.
She used to be friendly with Mrs. Dubois before her glances turned sour and captious.
The old woman was once her Sunday school teacher—for both her and Minnie when they were eight years old.
“Hi, Mrs. Dubois.”
