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Then Xay died and suddenly none of our shit felt important enough to force.

So I hadn’t.

I checked on her.

Checked on the kids.

Made sure she had whatever she needed.

If she wanted me around, I came.

If she didn’t, I stayed the fuck away.

We hadn’t had sex.

Hadn’t kissed.

Hadn’t talked about what the fuck we were.

There’d be time for that.

Hopefully.

I called her back.

She answered after two rings.

“Hey.”

“You called?”

“Yeah. I was just checking on you.”

I walked toward my truck.

“I’m good.”

“How’d it go?”

“They think I killed Xay.”

Silence.

“What?”

I laughed.

“Apparently fucking your brother’s wife after finding out he helped send you to prison don’t look too good on paper.”

“Levin.”

“I’m good, Sam.”

“You need a lawyer.”

“Already got one.”

“I mean a good one.”