Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
The worst part? He wasn’t even doing it to be mean. So far as I could tell, little Cody had a serious crush on our Silvie girl.
“Cody doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I said. “Would I lie to you about ghost monkeys?”
She cocked her head at me, then shook it gravely.
“Let’s go look in the closet together,” I said. “I’ll show you it’s safe, and then I’ll use some of my monster spray just to be sure.”
We crawled out of bed. She held my hand while I grabbed a spray can of vanilla-scented air freshener I’d bought for just this purpose. Then we stepped across the hall. I heard murmuring voices from the kitchen—apparently Cookie had company. We were coming up on the one-year anniversary of the death of her husband, Bagger, in Afghanistan. She was doing pretty well all things considered, which meant she wasn’t doing that great at all, but she hadn’t rolled over and died, either.
Cookie impressed the hell out of me.
“The monkeys were there,” Silvie said, pointing to the closet fearfully. I flipped on the bedroom light and walked over to the door, opening it.
“No ghost monkeys,” I declared, taking a few seconds to examine every inch, knowing it would make a difference to her. I even checked behind the hanging clothes.
Wasn’t the first time I’d had to inspect Silvie’s closet for monsters.
“Spray,” she demanded.
I coated the small space thoroughly with air freshener.
“There we go,” I said. “No way ghost monkeys or any other creatures will get in there now.”
“Thank you,” Silvie whispered, wrapping her arms around my legs.
“Any time,” I muttered, fighting back a yawn. Shit, I needed some coffee. “Let’s go find something to eat.”
“Mommy’s in the kitchen talking to Uncle Deke.”
Interesting.
So much for Cookie sleeping in.
“Uncle Deke” came to visit a lot. He was the president of the Portland Reapers chapter, and he’d been looking out for Cookie since she moved down from Coeur d’Alene. I couldn’t tell whether he was just taking good care of a brother’s widow or there was more going on.
If so, I was pretty sure Cookie hadn’t noticed him.
I walked in to find them sitting at the kitchen table, coffee cups between them. A box of doughnuts sat on the counter.
I didn’t know Deke very well. He was probably around thirty years old, although hard to tell for sure. I knew he’d been in the Marines before joining the club, so I figured he understood what Cookie was going through better than most. He was a big guy, powerfully built, and one of his arms had been burned pretty bad. Now scars roped it, although it’d missed his hand. Some guys would keep that covered up.
I’d never seen Deke in a long-sleeved shirt.
“These doughnuts for anyone?” I asked, drifting toward the counter.
“Help yourself,” Deke answered. He and Cookie had fallen silent, and I wondered what they’d been talking about.
“Silvie, baby, let’s go get you dressed,” Cookie said. She smiled at me, the hint of sadness she always wore these days firmly in place. Even her hair seemed different since Bagger’s death. The wild, red corkscrew curls were somehow flatter.
She took Silvie’s hand and walked her out, leaving me alone with Deke.
“How’s shit with you?” he asked. I shrugged and smiled.
“Is that you asking or my dad?”
“More me bein’ polite than anything,” he said, his face unreadable. “You know we’re here if you need us, but I got better things to do than babysit. Glad someone’s in the house with Cookie, though.”
“Yeah, I’m happy to be here,” I said. “She’s doing me a huge favor. I won’t be able to work much once my program gets started, so keeping costs down is pretty important. Win-win for both of us.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, offering him a quick look of apology.
“Tell Cookie I said good-bye,” he said, standing. I nodded, then looked at my phone.
HUNTER: How you doing?
Shit. I glanced at Deke, but he wasn’t paying attention to me at all. Good, because I was pretty sure my guilty vibes were strong enough for him to sense if he bothered.
ME: Good. I thought we weren’t going to do this anymore.
I’d told Hunter to stop contacting me at least once a day since the party at his house. I suppose it made me a horrible person, but each time he got back in touch anyway, I felt the thrill all the way through my body.
HUNTER: Yeah … about that. I need to see you
ME: Skid was right. I wont be part of ruining you
HUNTER: Skid doesn’t know everything. Its more complicated. Thats my problem to deal with.
ME: No
HUNTER: Tonight
ME: I’m babysitting Silvie tonight
HUNTER: Then call when she’s asleep
ME: I’ll think about it
I thought about it, all right. I thought about it all day as I filled in at Cookie’s coffee shop. I continued to think about it while I made Silvie dinner (Kraft macaroni, because that shit is good) and while we had a bath (because that shit is messy). We checked for ghost monkeys and I monster-proofed the bedroom before tucking her in for the night. Then I went out into the living room and turned on the TV, still wondering if I should call Hunter.