Page 83 of Baker

When she pulled away, she looked at me for an instant, and then turned around.

“I need some time to think,” she said over her shoulder.

My lips parted, but I didn’t speak. Frozen by fear of the unknown, I stood statue-still and watched as she disappeared through the doorway.

THIRTY-FIVE - Andy

I couldn’t breathe.

It had been three miserable days since Baker told me that he was a criminal – and that he may have to lie to me to protect the oath that he’d taken.

The ache in my chest stood as a reminder that I once had a relationship with a criminal and a lair, and it ended poorly. Although I didn’t feel a relationship with Baker would be plagued with the same exact problems, I feared what might happen. What it boiled down to was whether I was willing to take the risk or not.

I stared at the Christmas flier, and wondered if anyone would even show up. I hoped so, but considering the successes of my year, I had my doubts. About the time I was ready to take it down and toss it in the trash, the door swung open.

Mort walked in, took one look at me, and paused. “Who shit in your breakfast cereal?”

I tried to put on a smile. “Excuse me?”

“You look like shit, Kid.” He took a step toward me. “Everything okay?”

I forced a crooked smile. “I’m good.”

“You look like you got shot at and missed and shit on and hit. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

He took another step, paused, and looked me over. “Let’s give it a try. I don’t know if you realize it or not, but you’re uglier’n a stack of turds when you’re upset,” he said lightheartedly.

I laughed. “Thanks.”

He sat down. “Don’t be upset if I look away. You’re hell to look at right now.” He glanced at the pictures and then at me. “What’s his name?”

I covered my face with my hands. “Baker.”

“Not surprising.”

I peeked through my fingers at him. “You knew he was going to do this?”

“I had no idea what he was going to do. Hell, I think he’s a pretty nice fella. But I saw the way you were lookin’ at him a couple of weeks ago.”

“How’s that?”

“Like you wanted to eat him.”

I lowered my hands. “Well, I don’t want to eat him right now.”

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“I can’t really.” I lowered my head until my forehead went thump against my desk. After sulking for a few seconds, I looked up. “I don’t feel comfortable telling you about it.”

His face went stern. “If he did something to hurt you, say the word. Me and my two best friends will pay him a visit. Mister Smith and Mister Wesson. I’ll see if his ass can outrun a bullet.”

“No. He didn’t do anything.”

He inched closer, studying my face the entire time. “What then?”

“What do you know about relationships?”