Page 72 of Just Friends

“Well, babe,” he replied, “it was a bittoo rough for you to worry about.” She was too tired to press the matter; if he felt it was too coarse to tell her, it must be awful.

???

Weasel made certain that Rebecca was in the shower before pouring a glass of whiskey, and scrolled through his phone for Nick’s number.

“What up?” Nick answered.

“Kyle showed up tonight.”

“Funeral home?”

“Yep. Everyone had left; I’d gone out to heat the car. Came back in and discovered her yelling at him.”

“Did you get involved?”

“A little.”

“Anderson…”

“I didn’t touch him; I kept my cool. I deserve a medal for not pounding the little shit into the ground. But listen, I drove her car back to my place and don’t think he followed. I’m difficult to find, but not impossible. However, her aunt is staying at her apartment and if he goes there…”

“Let me find out who’s on patrol tonight. I’ll take care ofit.

Weasel disconnected and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it on the coat tree near the front door. He looked out the peephole, all peaceful and dark; the cars parked in a line in front of the cabin. He keyed in the alert code, switching on the motion activated camera out front and the house alarm. He rarely used the security system. In his estimation, Kyle was nothing morethan one of those men who bullied and abused women, and he wouldn’t pick a fight with someone like Weasel. But if Kyle became genuinely upset that Rebecca chose him, it could pose a problem. He wouldn’t take chances with her safety.

He settled on the couch with his liquor glass perched on his left knee. Rebecca entered wearing his favorite outfit, his AC/DC t-shirt with her wet curls cascading over her shoulders—a goddess. She curled up at his side, snuggling her face into his neck, she kissed it, and his body reacted. Calm down. This ain’t going anywhere tonight.

“Why are you still armed?” she asked, noting the gun holstered at this hip. There was a satisfaction in her knowing him enough to recognize that he put away his service weapon almost immediately after arriving home. Not tonight. “He’s not coming out here,” she answered his silence. “Kyle’s scared of you.”

“Not scared enough.”

“He believed you’d left.” Rebecca’s hand traveled under his shirt and rested on his bare chest. Even after sleeping with her a lot of times, her touch on his skin still rendered it nearly hopeless to concentrate. He never realized that was possible before her. And he had always assumed that the same woman all the time would get boring; he’d never been so wrong.

Her fingers stroked down his abs and lingered on his belt.

“Babe, what are you doing? You’re exhausted,” he managed. She removed her hand and took the glass from him and downed the rest, but she sputtered. Weasel smiled, “Careful, darlin’.”

Rebecca stood taking his hand. “I need to feel something other than miserable,” she said, leading him to the bedroom.

Twenty-Five

Rebecca stood in the falling snow while her father’s coffin lowered into the ground. Wet flakes were drifting, catching her hair, and dusting her eyelashes. Weasel tried to get her to move under the canopy, but she couldn’t. The next thing she knew he had an umbrella above her; she leaned into him wrapping her arms around him—her only anchor in the world. Autumn and Hannah touched her back. She turned to find Brandon, Ben, Justin, and Dan standing there.

“You don’t want to see the rest of this,” Hannah said.

“We need to get the flowers out,” Rebecca responded. Turning to the others huddled under the pop-up shelter and announced. “Come take some flowers.”

There were more flower arrangements delivered than decorated the whole florist shop, and she wanted none. Her collection of friends and family trudged through the increasing snowfall toward the funeral home. She held Weasel’s hand, aware of everyone watching, and she chose not to care.

Inside, the family snatched up vases and divided up food. Rebecca searched for the little angel figurine she’d had her eye on. Earlier it sat displayed on a table among the blossoms. When she located it, great-aunt Margaret grabbed it up right out from under her. The old woman moved fast when she chose.

“That’s the only thing I wanted,” Rebecca said.

“Well, it came for me,” Margaret snapped and shuffled away. Rebecca watched and debated if she’d get sent to hell for knocking an elderly woman down and ripping an angel figurine from her grasp. But then, she let it go. Hannah sidled up carrying a large bouquet in a crystal vase.

“Nice vase,” Rebecca said.

“I know, right?” she replied. “You want it?”

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