Page 45 of Wicked Lies

Hot, tough guys with OCD—another stereotype broken.

“I tend to be not so neat.” She laughed. “In other words, I’m a slob.”

“I don’t believe it, but for you I’ll overlook it.”

She pointed to the barbwire tattoo on his left bicep. “Does this mean something?” She traced the ink with her finger.

“Yeah, that I was young, dumb, and drunk. Got it on a dare when I was fifteen. The others have more meaning.”

“And this one?” Cheryl pointed to the cross and heart spanning the length of his ribcage that she noticed last night.

“That one’s for my mom.”

She examined it closer, clearly seeing the jagged scar.

He followed her gaze “The scar is compliments of my old man and a bottle of Bud. He’d been gone for three days on one of his meth highs, and my mother had the nerve to ask where he’d been. When I got in the middle, he chugged his beer, smashed the bottle on the kitchen counter, and cut me up.”

“That’s terrible.”

“He was a bum who spent most of my childhood in and out of jail, a miserable excuse for a father, and a lousy criminal too.”

“Whatever happened? I mean, are they still together?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They’re both dead.”

His frankness startled her, but she took it slow and stayed silent for a few minutes while he sipped his black coffee. “I never knew my father. My mother wasn’t good with details. In fact, my mother wasn’t good at being a mother.”

“Looks like we both won the fucked-up-family lottery.”

Her fingertips grazed the slight crookedness of his nose transforming his features from pretty to edgy. “I suppose this has a story too?”

Nick paused, and she feared more bad news.

“A bar fight back in the day.” Nick ripped apart a bagel, eating the doughy center first. “Before I hooked up with Frank.”

Now she had ten more unanswered questions.

“Tell me something about you.”

“Go ahead, ask me anything.” A second later, she regretted her statement.

“Why don’t we start with how you got hooked up with a punk like Jimmy?”

His question didn’t surprise her, and although she wanted to be honest, it would be impossible to make him understand.

She tilted her head. “Believe it or not, he wasn’t so bad in the beginning.”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Guess I have a thing for bad boys.”

Nick threw his hands up. “Don’t put me in his category.”

“At the time, he saved me.” Or at least that’s how she felt, or maybe it was all a scam too. Lately, life’s delusions and deceptions confused her.

They both grabbed for the last chocolate donut. “Go ahead.” Nick pushed it toward her.

“So polite.” She snatched it up, halved it, and held it out to him. “I’m familiar with the need for chocolate.”

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