Ham kept going.
“I got a two-bedroom condo, good views, balconies off both bedrooms and the livin’ room, and you’ll have your own bathroom.”
“You can’t think I’d even consider movin’ in with you,” I replied.
“And I got a decent fuckin’ TV.”
Damn.
I wished he hadn’t mentioned the TV.
I stared at him and Ham held my stare.
I found this nerve-racking so I tried something new.
“I have a year lease that I signed one month ago.”
“And I have a way with talkin’ folks around to my way of thinking.”
I knew that. In fact, I was experiencing it at that very moment.
I tried something else.
“I have furniture and I don’t have the money to put it in storage.”
“That’s good,” he returned instantly. “Since I got a place that’s not furnished and I haven’t got ’round to buying anything.”
“I thought you said you had a decent TV?”
“Darlin’, I’m a guy. We can’t breathe without a decent TV. I don’t have furniture in the living room but I bought a bed and TV my first day in Gnaw Bone.”
And again. Exasperating.
“Do you have an answer for everything?” I clipped.
“When it comes to gettin’ you safe. Yes. I do. Absolutely.”
And again. Killing me.
“Okay, then tell me this, Answer Man,” I demanded. “I lose my mind and move in with you, who do I get? The Ham I thought I knew or Dickhead Ham who came to my house months ago and broke into my place just now.”
“Never had a roommate, babe, except those four months you lived with me, and we did all right back then.”
My stomach muscles contracted with the force of that blow.
He’d never had a roommate?
Except for me?
I decided not to go there.
“Right, to speed this along, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave so I can consider your gracious offer.”
“Not leavin’ without an answer.”
“Ham—”
“Strike that. Not leavin’ without the answer I wanna hear.”
I glared at him before something hit me.
“What are you doin’ here?”
His brows shot together. “Babe, I’m here offerin’ to help you deal with your shit.”
“Not here.” I pointed to the floor. “Here.” I swung my arm out wide. “Gnaw Bone. Why did you take the job at The Dog?”
“’Cause I got a hatchet to the shoulder, made me slow down, think about shit, and reconsider. Don’t mind tendin’ bar. Prefer doin’ it paid a manager’s salary. Been a lot of places and got treated kind. When I thought on it, this one stuck out. Don’t know why. Don’t care. It did. Just happened as I was thinkin’ that shit through, The Dog needed a manager. Jake didn’t want the promotion, he gave me a call. I told ’em I was interested. I’m here.”
That was unsurprisingly forthcoming yet surprisingly thorough.
“And what about me?” I asked. “The town isn’t all that big, Ham, and I doubt I have to remind you that the last time we shared breathing space, we didn’t leave things all that great.”
“Mendin’ fences with you was on my list of things to do.”
I had no idea if he wanted to do this so we could exist in the same town where we would undoubtedly run into each other or because he didn’t like the way things ended the last time he’d seen me.
I told myself it didn’t matter. What mattered was moving on.
To do that, I took in a deep breath, drawing in rational thought as I did so and, on the exhale, I shook my head and said, “Ham, our fight was extreme. I think we need to learn from that situation that we can wound each other, be smart, and steer clear. Gnaw Bone isn’t that big but if you promise to act like a decent person should you see me, I’ll do the same.”
“Zara, our fight was extreme ’cause I just got hunted by an ax murderer. He was a sick fuck, obsessed with Feb, and did something about it to a woman I care about, and I got caught up in that mess. And I walked in on you while you were dealin’ with some serious shit you were not in a place to process with me. We took that shit out on each other. It got outta hand and we wounded each other. Now, I got a life plan and you gotta find a place where you’re safe while you make one. That place is with me. No strings. No bullshit. You work for me and make decent money. You live in my second bedroom. You sort your shit out. You make a plan. You move on. And in the meantime, we find the way to the new whatever-it-is we’re gonna build with each other. No pressure. Nothin’. Just you safe, me not havin’ to worry about you, and us not up in each other’s shit.”
Why did this suddenly sound completely reasonable?
“Honestly, Ham, I need some alone time to think about this,” I told him.
“You can’t have it. You don’t move in with me, I’m sleepin’ on your couch ’cause if police chiefs can kidnap pregnant women one town over, anything goes. So with your chain popped, no fuckin way I’m leavin’.”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head.
“Cookie, you’ve had it shit for a while,” he continued. I opened my eyes and lifted my head to look at him. “Everyone’s worried about you. Way I hear it, they’re doin’ all they think you’ll let ’em do to help you out. Told you, you matter to me. For fuck’s sake, babe, let me help you out.”
“Livin’ together is not a good idea, Ham.”
“Worked for us before.”
“We were lovers before,” I whispered and Ham’s jaw got tight.
Then he stated, “Right. I get your point. So, ground rules. You hook up, you do it at his place. I return the favor. Agreed?”
Me sleeping in Ham’s second bedroom knowing he was out all night, hooking up.
That would be devastating
I wasn’t going to let on that I felt that.
I was also not going to share that I was never hooking up. Not ever again. For the rest of my life.
“That’s a good rule,” I said instead. “Another one, you replace any of my beer you drink.”
His mouth twitched and he agreed. “You got it.”
“And you’re weirdly tidy,” I informed him. “If I leave my shoes out or something, you can’t light into me.”
“Babe, I’m not weirdly tidy. I’m just not a slob like you are.”
“I’m not a slob,” I returned.
“I’ve known three times where you had to take emergency trips to the mall to buy underwear. This somethin’ you actually did instead of laundry.”
“That was before I had a washer and dryer in my house. I didn’t have an aversion to laundry. I had an aversion to that weird guy who’s always sleeping in the Laundromat.”
At that, Ham grinned. “Lucky for you, I got a stackable in the hall.”
“Yippee,” I muttered.
Ham’s grin got bigger.
It faded and he said quietly, “We’ll work it out.”
“Ham—”
“Cookie, we’ll work it out.”
I pressed my lips together.
“Tell me what I wanna hear,” he prompted.
“Uh… just sayin’, even if I do, my lock’s still broken, seein’ as you charged in here like a lunatic. Does this mean you’re sleepin’ on the couch until I move in?”
“No, you tell me what I wanna hear, it means we’re loadin’ your bed in my truck right now, movin’ your ass in, and you’re sleepin’ in your new room tonight. We’ll get the rest of your stuff later.”
Something new to learn about Ham. He wanted something, he didn’t mess around.
I made a mental note of this (and underlined it, repeatedly) as I studied him.
Ham let me.
Finally, I remarked, “You do know this is totally insane and will end in disaster.”
“Last time I had you under my roof, it led to five years of good with a number of times in those years that weren’t good
. They were fuckin’ great. So, babe, no. I don’t know that at all.”
At that point, I decided I needed to stop talking mostly so he would stop talking.
So I did and I considered his offer.
What I knew was I couldn’t do this. I also knew I shouldn’t.
“You gonna strip your bed or you wanna air the sheets on the way?” Ham asked.
Damn.
I was going to do this.
Because he was right.
Dennis Lowe, who attacked Ham, hadn’t discriminated. He’d attacked men and women, including killing his wife. The dude in Carnal had discriminated. He’d only killed women. And Lexie Walker, the pregnant lady who got kidnapped by the ex-chief of police, had obviously been a woman. Not to mention, Faye Goodknight, who got buried alive but fortunately rescued before she became buried dead, had also obviously been a woman. A wife. A pregnant lady. And Faye Goodknight was a freaking librarian.
No one was safe.
And I didn’t even have a peephole.
“Strip it,” I answered.
Ham smiled.
I sighed.
He wasn’t insane. I was.
But, I told myself, at least I could be insane and safe at the same time.
Ham moved to the bed.
I stood there, hoping like hell I’d survive this.
Then I followed him.
Chapter Four
Easy
Two days later…
“Let me get this straight,” Maybelline, my friend, my boss, a plump, attractive black lady in her forties, sitting across from me in the break room of Deluxe Home Store, started. “You and this boy were together years ago. He took off. You both carried on an on-and-off fling for years. Mostly off. You let him go to explore things with Greg. He got axed by a psycho, you gave him a call, he shows, you rip into each other, now he’s livin’ in Gnaw Bone, and, yesterday, you moved in with him?”
Her brows were up and her face was a study in incredulity.
I understood her reaction. Breaking it down like that didn’t sound so good.
I’d known Maybelline a long time even though she lived in Chantelle. We became friends after she became a regular at my shop. She liked the candles a local candlemaker made. She also had a habit of giving the unique-looking and stunningly melodious wind chimes another local artist made as gifts to friends out of state. When I lost the shop, seeing as she was the staff supervisor who did all the hiring, she worked it so I got a position at Deluxe.
And I’d just handed in my notice.
“You did me a solid, honey, but you also know things are serious tough for me right now and I make just above minimum wage,” I reminded her. “Waitresses wages are crap but everyone goes to The Dog. It’s packed nearly every night. I worked there before and tips were unbelievable. I’ll at least double, if not triple, what I’m makin’ here and I need it.”
“Okay, I get that. I don’t like it, but I get it,” Maybelline replied. “You’re good here. Good with customers. Show up on time, and you work instead of sneakin’ into the stockroom or hiding out in the shelves to take calls from your boyfriend or to set up meets with your pot dealer. Most folk suck. Spend half my time dealin’ with them. Only ones on staff don’t have my head about ready to explode are you and Wanda. So I don’t wanna lose you. But I get it. What I don’t get is you’re suddenly livin’ with this guy who, sorry, baby, does not sound like a well-adjusted man who’s got it goin’ on.”
“Ham’s adjusted,” I protested.
“He’s a drifter,” Maybelline shot back. “That’s not adjusted. And then he shows at your house after midnight and lays into you?” She shook her head. “No.”
“We fought because he’d just got axed by an ax murderer,” I told her, thinking, of all reasons for emotions to run high, that was a doozy.
“I get he’d have issues after that, honey, but it isn’t like I haven’t learned anything, havin’ three sisters and three daughters, not to mention bein’ a woman myself. I see your face, Zara. You’re strung out more than you’re normally strung out and I know it’s because you spent the last two nights sleepin’ under this man’s roof and wakin’ up makin’ coffee for him.”
“I don’t make coffee for him, Maybelle. He doesn’t get up until nearly noon. I’ve barely even seen him except to move in.”
“You know what I mean,” she said gently.
I knew what she meant.
I held her gaze.
Then I told her, “I do. But he’s a good guy and he’s looking out for me. He talked to my landlord and got me out of my lease without any penalties or any hassle and it took him, like, fifteen minutes. He corralled Jake into coming around and they did all the heavy lifting with getting my stuff to his place. And his place is really nice. Clean. Newish. I have my own balcony. And there’s not only a peephole but a security system.”
“All that’s good for your life right now, Zara, but none of it is good for your heart.”
She was absolutely not wrong.
“I’m over him,” I declared and she sat back but didn’t let go of my eyes.
She didn’t speak for several beats before she stated, “I’ll remind you, you’re talkin’ to a woman with three daughters and three sisters, baby.”
Okay, so I couldn’t pull one over on Maybelline.
“Right, then, I’m not over him but I’m not doin’ that shit again with any man. I’m determined about that. I’m determined to get my life back together. So even if I was open to having another man, having one would take attention away from getting my life together. And that’s not going to happen so it’s lucky I don’t want one.”
Before she could reply, I leaned toward her and grabbed her hand.
“I’m thirty-two years old, Maybelle, and I’m starting fresh and that sucks.”
“I know, hon,” she whispered.
I kept talking, telling her stuff she knew because she lived through it with me.
“The bank took my house and I got so deep with my creditors for the store, my credit rating is totally in the toilet. I have to sit for seven years to wait out the black mark of the foreclosure and to get my credit history back on track. I’m screwed with all that. I have my two-hundred-dollar security deposit in the bank and that’s it. I don’t know what rent’s going to be at Ham’s but I do know that if I don’t have to drive all the way out here to go to work, I’m gonna save a whack on gas.”
“Well, you got that right,” she mumbled.
I figured that meant I was getting somewhere so I went on.
“Like I said, my pay is going to at least double. And one thing I know, even with our history, Ham will do right by me. I’m hanging on to that for today. Tomorrow, I’ll build on that. And then build some more. Until this shit time is done and I finally, finally have something to look forward to again. I don’t know what that is. I just know I have to find it, Maybelle. Because not havin’ anything good, anything to look forward to, anything to work toward sucks. It can beat you. There were a bunch of times when I almost let it beat me. And I gotta do what I gotta do to keep that streak and not let it beat me.”
When I was done talking, Maybelline was holding my hand tight.
“You been doin’ real good, girl,” she told me.
“I don’t know how,” I told her. “Honestly, Maybelle, the times I wanted to run away or felt humiliated because I had to sell plasma, fighting tears the whole time my blood dripped out of me, just so I could buy some cereal and put a bit of gas in my car, jumping at the shot to babysit Nina and Max’s kids so I could make twenty bucks. It’s a struggle, not letting it beat me. Ham’s giving me a shot at pulling myself out. Bein’ with him while having feelings for him, that’ll also be a struggle. But it’s the best shot I’ve had for a really fucking long time and I gotta take it.”
Maybelline kept holding my hand tight as she held my eyes.
“You need me, I’m there,” she declared.
I smiled, let her hand go, and leaned back. “
You always are.”
“Okay, no. What I meant to say, you need me or not, I’ll be there,” she amended.
My head tilted to the side in confusion. “What?”
“Me and Wanda, we’re gonna be on the case,” she announced.
I was still confused. “On what case?”
“Don’t know this boy. Gonna get to know him real quick. Gonna keep our fingers on the pulse. Make sure he doesn’t play games with our girl.”
I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
“Maybelle—”
She lifted a hand my way, palm out. “Love you, baby. You know it. Wanda thinks the world of you and you know that, too. But you’re not out of that hot water yet. We’re gonna make sure you don’t drown in hot guy.”
I leaned in again. “Maybelle, seriously, honestly, I’m not pulling wool. He’s a good guy.”
“He left you.”
“Yes, but—”
“Left you but kept you, then let you walk away from him.”
“This is true, but—”
“Boy’s gonna have to prove to me he’s a good guy.”
I sat back again and let it go.
Maybelline and I graduated from shopper and shop owner to meeting for coffee to having a gab over drinks to talking on the phone for hours about her boy-crazy daughters and man-eating sisters to her having me over to dinner twice a week so she could ascertain I got a decent hot meal in me so she could strike at least that worry off in all her worries about me. In other words, I knew her. I could talk for days and she’d still do whatever-it-was she was going to do with Wanda to keep an eye on Ham.
“Just don’t get me kicked out of my new pad. It’s the shit,” I said.
“You can move in with me and Latrell, that happens.”
“Latrell would lose his mind if the female quotient of his house upped from four to five,” I returned.
“This is true,” she muttered. “But I’ll give him regular foot rubs. He’ll get over it.”
Latrell, I knew, liked his foot rubs and Maybelline got away with a lot in utilizing them strategically.
Still, I thought it important to warn again, “Don’t get me kicked out of my pad, Maybelle.”
“We’ll go easy on your supposed good-guy hot guy.”