Dolly

  I normally spent Saturdays at home—cleaning, doing laundry, homework—or sometimes I’d visit my momma. Filling in for Zander at work today had thrown me off my schedule. However, seeing as I no longer had a boyfriend, my night was free, except for helping Jeremy with his art project.

  I put the homemade pizza in the oven while Jeremy set up all his supplies on the kitchen table.

  “How many of those guys like that do you know?” Jeremy asked me.

  Ringer was camped outside my door and refused to come inside. It seemed Micah had ordered him not to come in my apartment. I thought that sounded unfair to him, but Ringer seemed fine with the situation. Micah’s orders sounded silly to me. I intended to make sure to take Ringer some pizza when it was finished, as well as take some to Harold. He loved my pizza, but then again, he loved any food given to him.

  “Not many,” I replied. “Micah thinks I need some protection right now. It’s a long story and not important.”

  Jeremy’s brows furrowed in a frown. “Seems important.”

  Smiling brightly, I walked over to the table. “Well, it ain’t. Now, let’s get started,” I said, hoping he would drop the subject.

  “Is it about that other guy who was coming by here a lot?” he asked.

  I paused and glanced at him. I’d never introduced him to Canyon, but it didn’t surprise me that Jeremy had noticed him coming by.

  “It’s really not important. We need to get started on this project. If we start gluing now, it can dry while we eat,” I said with a smile.

  He didn’t seem happy about my response, but he nodded, and we began putting the pieces he had already cut out together. While I held them in place, he glued them. I asked about his classes and the girl he had mentioned who was new this year. After a little prodding, he began chatting away, seeming to forget about the biker standing guard outside my apartment.

  When the pizza was ready, I sliced him a large piece and made him a glass of chocolate milk before preparing some to take to Ringer and Harold. Telling him I would be right back and to get another piece if he needed it, I headed for the door with my two plates of pizza and a bottle of water tucked under each of my arms.

  When I stepped outside, Ringer was leaning against the wall, texting on his phone. He lifted his head and looked at the pizza, his eyes lighting up before meeting mine.

  “Hungry?” I asked, handing it to him.

  He took it. “Yeah, that looks great. Thanks.”

  I took a water and gave that to him too. “Enjoy. I have more if you are still hungry when I get back.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked, straightening his stance, suddenly alert.

  “Just to walk this down to a friend. He is one block over. No need to go with me.”

  He smirked. “You go. I go.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Eat your pizza while it’s hot.”

  He picked the large slice up and folded it, then placed the water and plate by his feet. “I’ll eat while we walk.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, frustrated.

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “Fine. Come on then.”

  We walked in silence the small amount of time it took to find Harold. He was sitting on an upturned plastic crate with his harmonica, playing an upbeat tune, when he spotted me approaching. A smile lit up his face as he lowered the instrument from his mouth.

  “Got me somethin’ good, do ya?” he asked when I reached him.

  I held out the pizza to him, wishing I could do more for him than stopping by with food. “My homemade pizza,” I replied.

  “That just might be my favorite,” he told me as he took the pizza from my outstretched hands, then raised his shaggy white eyebrows as he looked behind me. The way his mouth tightened into a firm line made it clear he wasn’t happy about Ringer following me.

  “Harold, this is, uh, well, this is my friend’s…uh, friend. Ringer,” I explained.

  “Friend’s friend, is it?” he asked, still studying Ringer closely. “Sweet girl like you ought not to have friends like that. Ain’t right. You got the world at your feet.”

  I gave Harold’s arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “It’s Pepper’s brother’s friend. I assure you, he is just here to protect me.” I stopped then as his eyes narrowed.

  “What you need protecting from?” Harold asked.

  Why had I said that? Explaining my way out of this one was going to take time I didn’t really have. Not with Jeremy waiting on me in my apartment.

  “It’s overkill,” I assured him. “I don’t think I need any protecting, but a guy I was dating turned out to be not such a good man. Anyway, all is well. I promise. You eat that pizza. And where is the blanket I brought you?”

  His concerned frown didn’t ease. “It’s folded up real nice under my box here. I like to keep it clean until it’s time for bed.”

  “Good. Well, Jeremy is back at the apartment, needing help with an art project. I have to head back, but I’ll make sure we have time to chat next time.”

  He nodded. “And you let me know if’n these boys protecting you step out of line.” His eyes were locked on Ringer, making sure his threat was clear. It was sweet really.

  Harold was sixty-three, but living on the streets the past fifteen years made him appear closer to eighty. He had arthritis something awful and refused to take any of the medications I had brought him, saying that taking pills was what had gotten him here.

  “Enjoy your pizza,” I told him and wished he’d take money, but I already knew he wouldn’t. I’d tried too many times to offer it to him.

  “Always do,” he assured me.

  Turning, I glanced up at Ringer, who was grinning like an idiot. Nothing about this was funny. I shot him an annoyed glare before starting back to the apartment.

  “You feed old homeless men and help kids with homework.” He chuckled behind me.

  “Why is that amusing to you?” I asked, not giving him the satisfaction of a scowl.

  “ ’Cause it just is.”

  Rolling my eyes, I walked as fast as I could back to the apartment. It wasn’t like I was trying to feed all the homeless in Miami. I would if I could, but that would be an impossible task. Harold was special.

  I’d met him the week I moved in. I had been walking home a little late after getting lost in a book I was reading at the burger place just a mile from my apartment. Some young guys were calling out to me from their car and following me slowly. I was right near ready to take off running and screaming. Promising God that I wouldn’t do this again if he just got me out of this mess.

  Then, Harold came out of nowhere, waving a gun, and yelled at the boys that he’d shoot all their sorry asses if they didn’t go on. He scared me a touch, but then he’d explained the gun was a toy but a real good replica. He had walked me the rest of the way, and I’d found out that he’d been in the Army. Served in the Vietnam War, and due to some PTSD he’d gotten, he’d become an alcoholic and lost his wife, and his only son had been killed in a car accident two days after he turned sixteen.

  His story was tragic, and it broke my heart that he was so alone in the world. So, yes, I fed Harold, and I checked on him. He deserved to be cared about too.

  We made it back to the apartment, and I was barely inside when I heard Micah’s voice, followed by Jeremy’s laughter. I froze for a moment, then hurried to the kitchen.

  Micah was busy holding a small square sheet of foil while Jeremy was working on covering the structure we had built with another square. Micah’s eyes lifted to meet mine, and then he gave me a crooked grin.

  “Hey, Tink.”

  I paused, looking from Jeremy to Micah, trying to make sense of the situation.

  Jeremy glanced back at me. “Micah is helping me. You can eat.”

  “When did you get here?” I asked Micah.

  “Almost right after you left,” he replied. “Ringer texted that you were feeding the homeless, so I thought I’d help Jeremy out.”

  Jeremy’s pizza was half eaten on his plate.

  “You haven’t finished your pizza,” I pointed out.

  He took the next piece of foil from Micah. “It’s okay. I’m almost done with this, and I can take it with me.”

  This was so odd. I stood there, trying to make sense of it. The last time Jeremy had seen Micah, he hadn’t liked him. I hadn’t been gone but maybe ten or fifteen minutes. How had things taken a complete one-eighty in that amount of time? Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “I’m really hoping there is enough of that pizza for me too. Smells amazing,” Micah said as he took a piece of foil and started wrapping the tower too.

  I had another one made up in the fridge that I hadn’t cooked yet. I’d thought about Micah when I did it, but I hadn’t wanted to assume he would be here in time to eat dinner. It was a Saturday night, and…well, he was Micah. He had things to do on Saturday nights, unlike me.

  I cleared my throat and decided I would figure this out later. “Yes, I have another one ready to put in the oven. I’ll, uh, do that now.”

  I didn’t wait for him to respond, but went about busying myself so as to not think about how he looked right now, bent over a model of the Eiffel Tower, helping Jeremy finish it up. The only thing that even remotely made sense right now was that I had fallen and hit my head somewhere. Because this was not something one would ever expect to see Micah Abe doing.

  By the time I had the oven heated and the other pizza slid inside, Jeremy had announced they were finished and brought his plate and cup to put in the sink.

  “Thanks for your help and dinner,” he said brightly.

  Yes, something was off. This felt like the twilight zone.

  “Uh, yes, of course. It turned out great,” I said to him. “Do you want to stay for some more pizza?” I asked him.

  “No. I’m good.” He nodded his head toward the pizza on a napkin he’d left on the table. “I’ll take that with me. See you later, Dolly.”

  I watched as he walked back over to the table and picked up his pizza.

  “I’ll carry the Eiffel Tower,” Micah offered.

  “Thanks!” Jeremy said, seemingly happy about it.

  Well, all right then. Whatever. Men of all ages confused me, it seemed. I was clueless, or I was missing something. Either way, I was going to let it go. Jeremy seemed happy enough.

  Micah took the tower and followed Jeremy, but glanced back at me and winked before leaving the room. I stared at the door for a few moments before shaking my head and walking over to the fridge to get out a bottle of prosecco.

  I considered texting Pepper to tell her what had just happened and get her opinion on it, but decided against bothering her. I had already distracted her enough from the bar this weekend.

  12

  Dolly

  Carrying the pizza into the living room, I set it on the coffee table. I could feel Micah watching me from the sofa he was currently leaning back on, scrolling through Netflix. Before I could straighten back up, he leaned forward and took a slice.

  “Damn, this looks good,” he said, then took a bite.

  Refusing to watch him chew because even Micah could make eating sexy, I turned and headed back to the kitchen to get the bottle of prosecco and my glass. Pausing, I glanced over at the whiskey that Micah had bought last night and figured it would be rude not to take it in there in case he wanted more. He already had a glass with some in it, but I didn’t want him to choke on his pizza.

  With a sigh, I picked it up and went back to the living room. His suggestion that we eat in there and watch a movie had sounded kinda nice. Even if he made me a little nervous. When Micah looked at me, I felt like that awkward girl I had been. The one that was still inside me. My appearance might have changed, but it hadn’t changed much else.

  Placing the bottles beside the pizza, I sat down with little room between us because this sofa was not that big. I’d bought it, thinking it was perfect for me. Micah made it look even smaller than it was. The only other guy who had sat on this sofa was Canyon, and that had been only a handful of times.

  Shoving thoughts of him aside, I spread out a napkin in my lap and then reached for a slice of pizza. When I lifted it carefully to my mouth to take a bite, I felt Micah’s gaze on me. I lowered the pizza and turned to look at him. He was smirking. What was so funny? I raised my eyebrows, feeling slightly annoyed that he could make me so self-conscious.

  “Are you always so prim?” he asked me.

  “Are you always so annoying?” I shot back at him.

  His lips curled into a full-blown smile. “You know, Tink, I think you’re the only female who finds me annoying. But then I doubt you really mean it.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, hating that he was right. “You’re wrong there. Pepper thinks you’re annoying.”

  He chuckled. “Little sisters don’t count. And I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s cute. That proper, prissy shit you do.”

  Cute. If he called me cute one more time, I was going to shove my pizza in his face. It was grating on my nerves.

  “Just stop talking,” I said, turning my attention back to the television.

  “Ouch,” he drawled, but I didn’t respond.

  Instead, I took a bite and started to chew.

  I expected him to talk some more and continue to say things that made me angry, but instead, he started searching the movies on Netflix again. I watched as he went past several movies that might be good when he finally stopped at one.

  “You good with this one?” he asked.

  I nodded, not looking at him, then picked up my glass and drank down the rest of the bubbly inside of it before reaching to pour myself more. If I was going to watch an entire movie with Micah Abe, I needed help relaxing.

  He clicked it, set the remote down, then took another slice from the table. I was finished with mine and used the napkin in my lap to clean my hands, then folded it neatly and placed it on the coffee table before settling back with my glass.

  It wasn’t until I drank all that I had and was considering pouring more that I felt its effects. Turning, I looked over at Micah, who shifted his gaze from the television to me.

  “Don’t you have better things to do on a Saturday night?” I asked him.

  His eyes danced with amusement. “I can’t say that I do, Tink.”

  I didn’t want to smile, but my lips did so anyway. Dang them. “You’re lying,” I replied.

  He took a drink from his glass, not taking his gaze off me. “Why would you say that?”

  I threw out a hand and waved it around the room. “This isn’t very exciting for you.”

  He shrugged. “It’s enjoyable though.”

  Enjoyable. That was a good thing. He was enjoying himself.

  His hand reached over and took mine. My gaze dropped to see his thumb brush over the small red welt that the espresso had left this morning.

  “You want me to get an ice pack?” he asked.

  I shook my head, not sure I could form words. Micah grinned, then lifted my hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over the tender flesh. The butterflies in my stomach morphed into something much more intense. They were more like a bunch of crazed seagulls.

  “You even smell sweet,” he murmured against my skin.

  I was sure I might just pass out right now. Micah Abe was kissing my hand—or as close to kissing as one could get—and telling me I smelled sweet.

  “You sure you don’t want me to get you one of those pretty little pink ice packs? I don’t like the idea of you being in pain.”

  Good Lord almighty, had I fallen asleep, or was this really happening?

  I started to shake my head when a loud knock rattled my door.

  “Dolly, babe. Open up!” Canyon called from the other side.

  Oh no. This was a bad thing. A real bad thing.

  Micah dropped my hand and shot up from the sofa.

  I scrambled to follow him as he started stalking to the door. He was almost there when I managed to wrap my hands around his arm to attempt to stop him.

  “Micah, wait!” I begged, not sure what would happen if he opened that door.

  “Let go, Tink,” he demanded.

  “DOLLY!” Canyon shouted from the other side of the door. “You’re not answering my calls or texts. Talk to me, baby.”

  Micah’s eyes locked with mine. “He’s called and texted you?” he asked me in an accusing tone.

  “We were dating,” I exclaimed. “I didn’t respond. You heard him.” I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, as if I had done something wrong.

  He jerked his arm free, and his hand went to his back, just under the leather vest he was wearing. Fear sliced through me as he pulled out a gun. Panicking as tears filled my eyes, I didn’t reach for his arm this time. Guns terrified me.

  “Micah, don’t, please,” I begged.

  His jaw clenched, and it only made the perfect angles of his face appear sharper. “I told him to stay the fuck away from you,” he said through clenched teeth. “He was using you, Dolly. What part of that do you not understand?”

  Even though I’d already known this, it still hurt to hear him say it. I’d loved two men in this world—or at least, I thought I had. Micah had been the first and Canyon the second, but then with Micah, I had been too young. With Canyon, I had been…blinded.

  “Just let me talk to him. Do you have to get the gun out for that? It’s a touch too much, don’t you think?”

  “Go to your bedroom and lock the door,” he clipped out.

  They were only words, but the memory came flooding back with it. I closed my eyes tightly, fighting it off.

  “One hundred twenty-two,” I whispered. “One hundred twenty-two.”

  Another loud knock. “Dolly! Come on, baby. Please.”