“It’s a fit because it is. You’re good at this, kid.” Ryan shrugged, although his eyes were far less casual.
The kid had me frowning. Ryan wasn’t that much older than me, and I was pretty sure the things in my past had knocked the shine off me a long time ago.
I shifted my attention to Jake and saw that he was just watching us, all of us.
“What do you think about this?”
He shrugged. “It was my idea.” He looked down at his casted arm, and then gave me a crooked grin. “It’s not like you don’t have the ability to take care of her, that’s for certain.” He leaned forward then and pinned a hard look on me. “Let’s put aside your record and focus on a couple other things. You had a choice a few years ago. You could either do a job, one that involved harming a kid and a mom. You refused. Instead, you protected them.”
Heat climbed up my neck. “Look, that–”
“Bobby, shut up.”
For some reason, I did. Maybe it was the look in Jake’s eyes. It wasn’t a look I hadn’t seen before. It just wasn’t the kind of look I’d ever seen directed at me. A weird sort of amusement mixed with frustration and...what else was it? I didn’t know, but I didn’t know how to process it either. So I listened.
“You protected them, and I bet you did it without even thinking much about how it would affect you in the end.” He nodded his head toward Carly. “You did the same thing with her. Now after it was done, you thought plenty. You were all but crawling with the need to get away from the hotel that first night, weren’t you?”
I jerked a shoulder, tried to keep anything from showing in my face or voice. “It was late. I was tired.”
“Yeah. I’ve noticed how much beauty sleep you need, Bobby.” Jake rubbed at his eyes.
He could use some beauty sleep, not that it was going to do much more than rest his body for a while. I had a feeling that the disease eating him alive was already draining his strength. And I’d broken his arm. My eyes dropped to the cast, guilt twitching.
I wondered how much time he had.
“You’re a born fighter, Bobby.” Ryan’s voice drew my attention away from Jake and back toward him. “Guy like you, you might not look for a brawl, but when a fight comes to your door? Well, you fight. And you win. But more, you’ve got a streak inside you that makes you want to protect people. Now here’s your chance to actually put all of that to use.”
I opened my mouth, a hundred denials already forming on my tongue.
Ryan’s wide grin taunted me, dared me. “You go ahead, deny it all you want. But inside, you know it’s the truth. I’m the same way. So’s Jake. We’re cut from the same cloth. Which is why we’re good at this.”
“We’re nothing alike.” I slid my gaze over him, from his pricy haircut to his pricy shoes, and then shifted my attention to Jake. “You two, you might be might be a couple of cookie cutter do-gooders, but me? I’m just a bum with a record. I’m good with my fists. That doesn’t add up to much.”
“And I was a punk-ass kid from Compton, looking down a one-way road to nowhere. I got off that road because I wanted to, because somebody made me realize I could be something more.” Ryan paused and then asked, “Aren’t you tired of being just a bum with a record?”
Yes.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Carly, saw her legs shift as she uncrossed them and leaned over.
She touched my shoulder. My body, already primed to respond after last night, tensed at the light touch and I turned my head, stared into her vivid eyes. She was hurt and angry, I knew, but there was none of that in her words.
“It’s plain and simple, Bobby. Can you do the job? Can you handle the job? More importantly, do you want the job?”
Plain and simple, I thought. That was the way to look at it.
And that meant my answer needed to be just as plain and simple.
And I knew what it had to be.
“Yes.”
Chapter 9
I hung up the phone and felt some of the knots in my gut unravel even as others started to tighten and tug.
It had taken three weeks, half the time it normally took, but Detoine had been able to push through the paperwork, approving my move from Kentucky to California.
“You keep your butt out of trouble, Bobby, okay? And drop me a line when you get a chance.”
Those had been his parting words.
Keep my butt out of trouble.
Yeah.
I was sure that would happen.
Now, I just had to pack up the pitiful little I owned – most of which was the clothing Carly bought for me – and then get to California.
First, I sent off a message to Ryan, letting him know the move had been approved. It was early there, so I didn’t want to call. Once that was done, I grabbed the larger of the two suitcases that had been delivered to my apartment two days ago.
I hadn’t ordered them. I couldn’t have afforded them even if I’d thought about ordering luggage. I’d planned to use the single duffel bag I usually used to cart my stuff around, and the rest I’d intended to just put in a garbage bag or box. I realized now how stupid that would’ve been, not to mention how it would’ve looked, showing up in California looking like some homeless asshole.
I was only halfway through packing the first suitcase when my phone rang. It was Ryan. He didn’t bother with any preliminaries. “I’ll have a car there at noon tomorrow. You’ll be ready to go by then, right?”
“Noon? What?” I straightened up and looked around me. It wasn’t like I had that much to pack. The few second-hand books I owned were already in the duffel bag I was going to carry on the plane with me. Beyond my books and clothes, there just wasn’t much else. I had a framed picture of my mom that would go in my carry-on because I didn’t trust airlines. Everything else that really mattered was either on my phone or in my wallet. That was it, but…noon tomorrow? That didn’t even give me twenty-four hours. Sure, I’d had three weeks to know this was coming, but a part of me had held back, always believing that things would fall through and I’d be stuck here.
“I want you out here. Out here and away from that dick.”
Somehow, I didn’t think he meant dick as in slang for detective.
Sighing, I looked around and then dropped down on the creaking excuse of a bed. “Yeah. I’m ready.” My gut tightened as I forced myself to ask the next question. “How’s Jake?”
“He’s...fine.” Ryan’s voice was carefully neutral.
I closed my eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.” Ryan’s sigh drifted across the phone. “He’s tired a lot. Hurts more than he wants us to know, but I see the signs. He’s managing.”
I’d done a bit of research on my own. Pancreatic cancer was the kind that hit hard and fast. After watching my mom suffer, I could see both the cruelty and the kindness of such a diagnosis. “How long will he keep working?”
“Until he can’t,” Ryan said simply. “Carly’s his world. She’s like a daughter to him, and the guys, we’re his family. You’ll see when you get here, kid.”
He hung up after a few more minutes, talking just long enough to give me the details I’d need for tomorrow. I committed them to memory instead of writing them down. I’d always relied more on my memory than on my ability to not lose a piece of paper.
Once I disconnected, I laid down and stared up at the ceiling for what I hoped would be the last time. I’d spent quite a few nights pondering that water-stained ceiling.
No more.
Not after tonight at least. I doubted I’d get much sleep. I would’ve been too keyed up even if I hadn’t been freaking out about flying for the first time.
I sat up after a few more minutes and ran through the instructions for tomorrow. They were sending a car. I’d go to the airport. The driver would direct me to the proper place and then...