Page 8 of Jensen

“Nothing,” he says. “I run a delivery business. She’s in logistics, makes sure I have the means to keep all the routes running.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” I blurt out.

He leans back, laughing. “No, she’s not mine. Not like that.”

A man appears and sets a tray of food down. Brothers fills my glass again and starts talking, laying everything out. He owns a shipping and delivery business in addition to racing and gambling. They distribute liquor, weed, and other products he’s careful not to name. It’s a lot to manage, so he keeps the people who work most closely with him here on site. He’d like to try me out as a delivery driver. Room and board is free as long as I do a good job.

I agree, but deep down, I’m making plans to figure something else out.

He sends me upstairs to the nicest room I’ve ever slept in. Big four poster bed, my own bathroom. I’m almost asleep when I hear the door creak open. Bare feet pad on the floor. A little weight dips the bed. Then, familiar warmth crawls over my body. Holly kisses me, face wet with tears.

“I’m so sorry, Jen,” she whimpers.

“It’s not your fault Cherry found out,” I whisper.

She doesn’t answer but does yank the covers back. Her hand goes in my boxers, and she starts riding me, hand on my chest. She’s crying at the same time. I keep going soft because I don’t want to fuck her while she’s sobbing. She digs her claws into my chest as I push myself up on the pillows.

Then, out of the blue, she slaps me across the face.

I reel back. I’m stunned and suddenly rock hard.

Something mean clicks into place in that dark room. We fuck, harder and dirtier than we’ve ever fucked. Then, she falls asleep in tears while I sit against the headboard with my face in my hands. It takes a while, but I must drift off, because I’m waking up to a bird singing outside my window and an empty bed.

There’s a stack of clothes by the door. I shower and put them on, lacing up a new pair of leather boots.

The front hallway is empty. I walk down it, looking everything over.

“Jen.”

Turning, I see him through the first door on the left. It’s a dining room with a big oval table and windows looking out over the horse barns. Brothers sits at the head.

“Come and get something to eat,” he says.

I sink down. Another nameless person appears, fills my plate, and melts away. The coffee is good, strong enough to wake me up. We start eating, and the silence is big and awkward. There’s a steak on my plate next to the eggs. It’s kind of freaking me out. I’ve never tasted steak before, unless I’m counting Salisbury.

Finally, Brothers clears his throat.

“So what did you want to be when you grew up?” he says.

Alive would be the correct answer. My mother wasn’t the best at keeping food on the table, so every day was a race against the empty space inside, but I still have a faint memory of the luxury of wanting something more. It sounds pretty silly when I think about it now.

“A cowboy,” I say. “But I was about five then.”

Brothers laughs, but it’s a nice one. “I like that, like it a lot.”

Silence. I hope I’m not embarrassing myself.

“When should I start work, sir?” I say finally.

“I’ll show you around this afternoon,” he says. “This morning, we’re going to church.”

“Church?” I stare.

“It’s Sunday.” He says it like that’s obvious. “Now, I don’t mean to tell you what to do with Miss Holly, but I know she was in your room last night. Do what you will any other day, but there is no fornication or drinking on the Lord’s day within these walls.”

He says all this casually, his drawl easy.

“But…you drank last night,” I say.