No Saint (Wild Men 6)

“You’re in a mood today,” she remarks, snickering. “Their hunger is good for business, girl.”

I know. But I’ve had this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach ever since I told Ross we took Buddy in and it’s been eating at me. I can’t put my finger on it, couldn’t tell you what is bothering me. I don’t believe in premonitions. If I did, at least the way I feel today would make sense.

“It’s PMS!” the cook calls from inside the kitchen, and I rub at my eyes.

Or it could be PMS. Can’t argue with hormones.

The thing is, I haven’t heard from Ross all day. He hasn’t answered my texts, and I really should stop worrying about it because he’s at work and is probably busy, but... there you have it. The bad feeling. The churning in my gut telling me something’s wrong.

Best thing about work today, though, is that it takes my mind off my worry for a while. Then that’s over, too. I finish early, since I started early and, on a whim, I decide to go buy some doggie food for Buddy from the grocery store. I’m already climbing the steps to enter, when I notice someone sitting there and stop cold.

Ross is slumped on the steps, a bottle in one hand, an unlit cigarette in the other. He’s asleep, I realize after a moment of panic. Asleep sitting on the steps of the store.

Drunk.

Then disappointment sets in.

Sitting down beside him, I grab his shoulder and shake him. “Ross. Ross! Wake up. Come on, wake up.”

The bottle rolls from his hand, coming to a stop before it falls down the steps. He blinks at me, eyes blood-shot and unfocused.

Seeing him like this I want to cry. “I thought you didn’t want to be like your dad,” I whisper.

“A murdering old drunkard?” he rasps. “Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t answer any of my texts and calls. Why?”

He grabs the bottle and sets it upright, then sticks the unlit cigarette into his mouth. With his blond hair disheveled, blue eyes bloodshot and his clothes in disarray, he looks like a street bum. “I’m making it easier for you to go,” he says, not looking at me. “Not that you needed help, but...” He frowns, closes his eyes. “But just in case.”

“Go where? Ross, why are you behaving like this? What happened?”

He blinks. Abandoning the bottle beside him, he reaches into his back pocket and draws something out. A wad of bills, I realize as he throws onto my lap.

“Here,” he grunts.

“What is this? Why are you giving me money?” He’s acting so weird, it’s scaring the hell out of me.

“I’ve been saving it for a while. I— I didn’t steal it, Jesus Christ. Don’t look at me like that. I swear I earned it the honest way, working construction.”

“Good, then take it back.” I grab the bills and try to push them into his hands.

“It’s for you. So you can go and start a new life. Far from this shithole. Far from me.”

My eyes sting. “Ross...”

“Take it. Your brother told me you’re leaving. You should have told me, not let me... hope. But it’s only fair I help you go and... be happy, Luna. That’s all I want for you and... fuck, I can’t do this.”

Dumping the money back in my lap, he rises unsteadily to his feet. His lip is split and bruised, I realize with a start. There’s dried blood on his cheek and chin.

I scramble to my feet, too. “Wait... what did Josh tell you? When did you see him?”

“This morning. Went around to your house. Look, it’s okay, I understand. I had plans of leaving, too, on my Harley.” He winces, rubs at his forehead. I can see the scabs at his hairline where Joshua’s rock hit him. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“Expected what? What do you want from me, Ross?” I reach for him.

“Everything,” he says hoarsely, and his eyes look wet. He blinks rapidly, looking away. “I want everything from you. I want to keep you forever, don’t you get it?”

“Ross.” I grab hold of the front of his T-shirt, and he jerks a little, his gaze wide as it zeroes on my hand. “I—”