Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Chapter 5
Colt
Now
Every time I entered Aunt Georgia’s diner, memories smacked into me, one after another, from the first sniff onward. The place smelled like hot fries, sizzling meat, and the barest hint of the pine cleaner she’d used on the scarred floors for decades. My aunt herself was around less and less these days, leaving the running of the kitchen to various younger folks in need of the work. However, she’d been around this afternoon, enough to notice a suspicious customer and call it in.
I hadn’t been surprised by the call or the suspect.
“He’s been at it almost two hours now,” Aunt Georgia greeted me in low tones. Her lone patron at the back of the diner, playing one of the ancient arcade games, didn’t bother swiveling at the jingle of the door or the sound of our voices. The lack of business wasn’t that unusual. Lovelorn had her diner, a taco place, and a donut shop, which was strictly breakfast only, and all three struggled to stay afloat. There was talk of a chain fast food place going in out by the new biofuel plant, but that would likely only make life harder on the small businesses in town. Aunt Georgia finished wiping down an already immaculate booth. “Says he’s not hungry.”
“He’ll eat.” I was more aware than most of the limits of my intuition, but Maverick Lovelorn did hangry like few others. His stiff body language and the way he was rattling that machine said he’d needed to eat hours prior.
“I’ll put in for two of the burger special baskets.” Aunt Georgia bustled off to the kitchen. I should have subbed a salad for the fries, but some grease might help the knot in my gut that had arrived with Maverick hours earlier.
“Level twelve still get you?” I sidled up next to Maverick at the machine. In time, we’d played every game in here, but we always did have a fondness for alien warfare. The games were older now, like us, creaky and prone to breaking down. Lord knew I’d spent enough evenings with a screwdriver, changing out parts, keeping Aunt Georgia’s collection going and trying not to think about my long-gone best friend.
“Colt?” Maverick let out a slow groan as he turned to face me. “Did Georgia call you?”
“Nah.” I waved a hand, not about to rat my informant out. “Coming off duty. Willow’s at a friend’s house till after supper, so I’m killing time.”
“Willow?” He squinted, mouth curving in something that might have been distaste.
“My daughter.” I let all the pride of the last thirteen years fill my voice, making it clear I wasn’t seeking his opinion on the matter. “My whole world since Betsey passed.”
“I would imagine so.” Maverick offered a tight nod, voice thick. He’d never confess to keeping up with town news, but I doubted my being a widower was news to him.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t a topic I was prepared to discuss further, so I pointed at the game. “Scoot over. Let me show you how it’s done.”
“Still think you’re better than me?” He shook his head with a ghost of a smile. He’d always had a fifty pound chip on those slim shoulders of his.
“No one’s better than you, Mav.” I fell into our old banter, easy as a fry slipping through ketchup. “But I can whoop your ass and level twelve both.”
“You’re on.” Maverick moved so I could access the other controller, but I’d underestimated the amount of space our adult bodies took up. As young teens, there had been room to spare with our bony joints and string bean bodies, but as forty loomed large, our shoulders rubbed and we kept bumping elbows.
In addition to sounding different with the faster speech and traces of California here and there in his voice, he smelled different. Expensive, some sort of body product brand we likely couldn’t get out here in the sticks. Also different was my awareness of him. A million years ago, he’d been Mav, my best friend, and things had been so much simpler before everything changed.
“Food’s ready.” Aunt Georgia came up behind us to set the red plastic baskets on a nearby table.
“You ordered me food?” Mav’s tone turned suspicious as he narrowed his eyes.
“When did you eat last?” I demanded, sitting at the table, trusting he’d follow. “And don’t count coffee.”
“A while.” Defeated, he sank onto the metal chair opposite me. He took a healthy bite of the burger, swallowed. “Thank you.”
“You always did do hangry something awful.” I shook my head, unwelcome fondness seeping into my tone.
“I wasn’t hangry.”
“No?” I shot him a pointed look. “Just an asshole all the time these days?”
He blew out a harsh breath. “I don’t wanna fight.”
“Then don’t.” I helped myself to a fry, forcing my irritation back down to a manageable level. “What are you doing in town anyway? Figured you and Faith would be reviewing offers by now.”