“It’s all right. The scar is itchy.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. My work isn’t pretty.”
“Better than getting infected.” I smile at him, and he nods before staring me in the eyes.
“You be careful,” he says seriously. “Find something to do in the apartment, and keep away from Beck.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say to assure him. “I’m going to help Christine out with dinner. Beck never comes near the kitchen unless there’s food being served.”
“Stay close to the common area at least. Most of the guys are going to be busy digging that well, so don’t go off on your own.”
“I’ll stay close.”
He nods but doesn’t look happy about it.
“I’ll be back soon.”
I go back to the dishes. Marco keeps washing as he hands me a towel to dry and smirks as he nods his head toward Christine.
Chuck has returned with another dead squirrel on the end of an arrow.
“I am not cooking that thing.”
“Why the hell not? I got it for you, babe!”
“Because there’s still a ton of Tyson products in a can, babe. You want to eat that shit, you go ahead and cook it yourself!”
“Aw, come on!” Chuck sticks out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and leans over so he can peer up into Christine’s eyes. “I’m providing for ya, babe. This couldn’t be better unless I found us a cave to live in. You could even draw on the walls!”
“Aw, darling,” Christine says as she puts down a stirring spoon and takes Chuck’s face in her hands. “You are my mighty hunter already, and I can draw on the apartment walls with those sharpies you found. Now get rid of that nasty thing and wash up. Dinner is almost ready.”
They kiss briefly, and Chuck hangs his head a little as he takes the squirrel-laden arrow back into the nearby trees. I hold in a laugh as Christine turns back and smiles at me.
“I’ll blow him later,” she announces. “Everything will be fine then.”
I have to cover my mouth to keep in the giggles. Marco doesn’t even bother to hold back his laughter.
“Quit your belly-laughing, and grab the paper towels out of the shed.” Christine points her spoon at Marco.
“I’ll go,” I say with another giggle. I dry my hands quickly and head off for the shed.
The shed has been completely emptied of yard equipment and is now full of community property. It’s mostly consumable items like paper products and toiletries, but there are also a lot of cooking supplies and a small barrel of dry kindling. Caesar has also stashed a decent supply of whiskey on one of the many shelves.
I try to reach up to grab the paper towels, but they’re on the top shelf, and I can’t quite reach. I look around and find a small step stool in the back of the shed to use, and as I’m putting it back, I hear the door to the shed open.
“Well, hello there.” Beck smiles at me as he closes the door behind him. His hair has gotten longer, and he is starting to look more like a gunslinger from the old west than someone from a magazine ad.
“Hi.” I shove the stool back in its place and dust my hands off as I stand back up. My intent is to grab the paper towels and leave, but Beck is between me and the lower shelf where I’d put the roll, examining bottles of scotch.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your bodyguard before,” Beck says. “I barely recognized you.”
My skin crawls. His words are innocent enough, but the way he says them has me on guard. There is also the knowledge that Falk would be extremely pissed off if he knew I was talking to Beck.
“Could you please hand me those paper towels?”
“I could.” He smiles and moves a step to the left, further blocking me, and holds up a bottle. “You could have a drink with me first. It’ll help you stomach that bitch’s cooking.”
I want to defend Christine’s efforts, but my desire to just get out of the shed is greater. The space inside is large, but all of a sudden, it feels much smaller and cramped to me. I just want out.