“Vera was in pretty bad shape,” I murmured, glancing out the window toward Nadine’s house. “Her gran probably wanted to get her in the house before people started gawkin’.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking me up and down. “I know how you feel about that girl.”
“What are you talking about?” I huffed as she pulled the first aid kit from under the sink and gestured for me to sit.
“Please,” she said wryly. “I’ve watched you watching that house next door all summer, waiting for her to come outside.”
“Bullshit,” I argued as she poured alcohol over my knuckles.
“You’ve been mooning—”
“I have not been moonin’—”
“You’ve been mooning over her since the first time she came over here,” she said, talking over me.
“Yeah, we had a thing,” I conceded. “But that ended a while back.”
“Doesn’t seem like anything has ended,” she replied knowingly, lifting an eyebrow as she spread ointment on my cuts.
“It didn’t exactly end on a high note.” I flexed my fingers as she packed the kit back up. “And she’s got bigger shit to worry about now.”
“That’s a fact, the poor thing,” she said. “At least she didn’t have to go to the hospital. Answering all the questions they ask is almost as bad as the actual beating.” I hated that she knew first hand the questions the hospital asked. What made it worse was that I knew most of the time, she hadn’t seen a doctor at all. Her right forearm was slightly bent in the middle from being set at home after a particularly nasty beating.
Mom sighed as she leaned against the counter, the fingers on one hand rubbing absentmindedly over her arm. For the first time in God knew how long, I was pretty sure that my ma and I were feeling the same way about the same thing at the same time. In other words, we both wanted to be in the house next door.
“Should probably give them some time,” I said. “Let shit calm down a little.”
“I hope you got him good,” my mom replied, uncharacteristically bloodthirsty. “That poor thing looked like she’d been hit by a car.”
“Not far off the mark,” I said, leaning back to watch as she made us coffee on the stove. “The man’s built like a fuckin’ Willys Jeep.”
“Kind of hard to imagine a man that size coming from a woman as small as Nadine,” my mom said, grinning at me over her shoulder as she waited for the water to heat.
“People probably say the same about us,” I teased, making her smile.
My size was an ongoing joke between us because while my dad was barrel chested and stocky, my mom was slender to the point of being skinny. Unfortunately for me, I took after her instead of him. I hadn’t been skinny since I was thirteen, but I’d never be described as a big guy. Ma liked to call me long-and-lean.
“True,” she said with mock seriousness.
Something caught my eye out the window behind her, and I was on my feet so quick that I knocked over the chair I’d been sitting on. Vera’s father was standing on her grandma’s front porch.
“That motherfucker,” I snapped, striding toward the front door.
“Try not to get arrested again,” my mom called out as I left. By her tone, I had a feeling she was only half kidding.
It took less than a minute to walk around the side of my ma’s house and through the hole in the fence that Vera had used all summer. I crossed Nadine’s backyard quickly and walked in the back door without knocking. The house was so small that I could immediately see Nadine standing stiff as a board behind the front door.
“I can handle this,” she told me as I moved toward her.
“Always nice to have a man watchin’ your back, though,” I replied, ignoring the fact that we both knew she was lying. “You mind?” I asked, gesturing at the door.
At her nod, I swung it open. I wished I would’ve had a camera to capture the mix of disbelief and fury on the asshole’s face when he realized who was opening his mother’s front door.
“Can I help you?” I asked calmly, raising my hand to stop Nadine from making her presence known from behind the door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a step forward.
“I was invited,” I replied, planting my feet in case he decided to rush me. The other man was bigger, but I had the advantage of bar brawls and perpetual bad company working for me. He wasn’t getting past me, even if I had to knock his ass out again. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my mother’s house,” he ground out, looking past me into the house. “Where is she?”
“Not your concern,” I said bluntly. “Get the fuck out of here.”