Page 80 of The Deals We Make
“Calista has a stalker.”
Switch’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline. “She what?”
“She has a stalker.”
“Shit. Do you know who it is?”
I shake my head.
“When did it start?”
“No idea.” Which is a problem.
“What’s she done so far to take care of it?”
“What’s with all the questions?”
Switch huffs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just taking an interest in your woman’s life because you’re my best fucking friend.”
I turn and slump back, resting my butt on the workbench. I cross one foot over the other and fold my arms. “I fucked up how I handled it when I found out.”
Switch’s shoulders relax. “Got it. You’re in a bad mood because you realized you fucked up with Calista. Let me guess, you used your shouty skills before your listening skills.”
“I’m not a fucking child.”
He reaches for a rag on the workbench and wipes his hands. “Now we’re getting somewhere. How did you find out?”
“Overheard her on the phone to someone else talking about it.”
“You weren’t spying on her, were you? We don’t have another Spark situation on our hands, do we? This isn’t in the name of ‘protection,’ is it?”
I can’t help but huff a laugh at that. Spark was supposed to stay away from Iris, but refused to and wouldn’t leave her unprotected. So, he’d hang around her house at night to make sure she was safe. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself and us of. My guess is the truth is more like he wanted to bang her something fierce.
“No. She’d stayed over at my place, let me rope her, thought we’d…fuck, maybe I’m just imagining we were getting closer. And then, I wake up alone but hear her banging around in the kitchen like she’s trying to find shit. But when I got in there, she’s making breakfast while telling someone named Becca that her stalker is still elusive and that some dude named Orsonis ruling out candidates, which, who the fuck is called Orson anymore, anyway?”
“That’s a lot to fucking process. Can we start with the fact you tied her up?”
I side-eye my best friend. “Absolutely not.”
“Bet she looked hot. All that golden hair. Was it the red rope?”
I punch the shoulder that doesn’t still have lingering problems, and Switch massages it as he winces and laughs at the same time.
“Just messing with you.”
“Today is not a ‘mess with Vex’ kinda day.”
Switch laughs again. “I don’t know. I like you got a woman you want to get close to, who lets you tie her up, who you have history with…and she’s making you work for it.”
“Yeah, well, you keep ripping on me and I’ll tell Sophia about that road trip we did after Sturgis the summer before you enlisted.”
“Remind me,” he says. Sometimes he needs prompts. Most of his memory has returned, but it’s like his filing system is a little broken.
“Three blondes, one redhead, two beds, and forty-eight hours in that shitty motel. Lived off fried chicken and soda from that nasty place across the street because it was quick and convenient.”
He winces. “Shit. Forgot about that. You tell Sophia about that, and I’ll accidentally shoot your nuts off when we’re on a run. Fine. Move on. Tell me why you don’t know shit about her stalker.”
Embarrassment floods me, but I might as well get it off my chest. “Because I didn’t stick around to ask any questions. The woman won’t let me an inch into her life. I know she’s going through shit with her mom, and she’s got the pressures of beingCEO of a big company while trying to be here. She thinks I don’t notice her always on her phone, checking messages and firing messages off. And she sure as shit didn’t decide to say anything to me about a stalker. She doesn’t want to share with me or rely on me for anything.”
