Page 112 of You're so Bad

There are eyes on me, and when I glance at the couch, I notice Shauna’s watching me.

Something tells me she knows exactly what I’m planning.

Damn it. She’s going to try and stop me, isn’t she?

Burke clears his throat. “I think it would be best if you stay with me and Danny,” he tells the kid.

“Why?” I ask.

My voice sounds strangled. I liked it, being over here with him and Shauna and Constance last night. It felt like maybe I had…

It felt good, is all.

“He can’t stay in your neighborhood,” he says, giving me a significant look. “The cops are already looking for him there. And he can’t stay here, in case this asshole does figure out—”

“I’ll be staying with them,” I blurt. Then I glance at Shauna and Constance. “If my ladies agree with it, of course. I’d need to bring Bean.”

“Of courseReese is staying here,” Constance says. “And you’re welcome too, Leonard. I’ve never minded having a house of sin. Frank might have had something to say about it, but he can go—”

Shauna grabs Constance’s hand, her eyes on mine. “Yes. Both of you should stay.” Her gaze floats down to Bertie, who looks pissed off, like he’s suddenly learned English and wishes he could forget it. “Bertie could use a little competition.”

“What can we do to make you more comfortable, Reese?” Delia asks, sweet as can be. She keeps reaching for her engagement ring, touching and twisting it like she can’t believe it’s there.

“Shoes,” Shauna says. “He needs new shoes.” She gives him a sidelong look, taking in his outfit. “Actually, a whole new wardrobe. Maybe you, Mira, and me can go pick up some stuff tomorrow afternoon instead of meeting at the bar?”

“I don’t get a say in this?” Reese asks, sulky.

“Nope, bub,” I say. “You don’t want to run into ole Joel at Target a week before you get your wings. It’s a miracle it hasn’t happened before now. You’re on house arrest unless Shauna takes pity on you and brings you to The Waiting Place.”

It’s not open yet, so there’s little to no chance someone he knows will see him and report it back to his foster father.

Reese swears, earning a shoulder swat from Constance. His flinch is the flinch of someone who’s seen violence, and I feel my fists balling again.

Constance’s face shifts from fond annoyance to horror. “You should know that no one will ever hit you here.Ever.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he says, looking embarrassed.

She must be able to tell, because she shifts gears again. “But no swearing until next week.”

“Seriously?” he squawks.

“Unfortunately, she means the vast majority of what she says,” Shauna tells him.

We all eat dinner together—pizza again, because Delia insisted that Reese be allowed to choose—and then Burke and Delia say they need to head off to continue their bonkfest. Or at least that’s what they mean. Before they go, Shauna pulls Delia aside, probably to plan their shopping trip or discuss the rock on Delia’s finger.

Constance is grabbing more of Grandpa Fruckface’s clothes for the kid and cleaning up the guest room, which has been taken over by her new hobbies. A little pile of crochet here, a couple of bottles of shitty Kahlua there. The kid might be tempted to try them, but I have a feeling even a seventeen-year-old will have better taste than to want to get drunk off of it.

I nod to Burke. “Thank you for letting me hijack your day.”

“I’d have been pissed if you didn’t tell me. I’m going to put Danny on this too. If there’s anything online about this guy, he’ll find it, no matter how deeply it’s buried.”

I nod, because it’s a good idea. This is what I rely on Burke for—to be my steadying force. To know how to make it through the world therightway.

“Be careful, brother,” he says, delivering the words with a cautioning look.

So Shauna’s not the only one who’s guessed what I’m thinking. Maybe my poker face could use some work.

“You know what they say about old dogs.”

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