This gave me pause for reflection. I didn’t like the idea of Vance knowing everything about me. Though I didn’t care about my panty size unless he felt like buying me a present for my birthday which was only a few days away.

What was I thinking?

Vance was not going to be in my life, thus no birthday present. And certainly not panties.

I looked at Heavy. “My birthday is Thursday,” I told him.

“Well, happy f**kin’ birthday,” Heavy grinned, white cream and chocolate cake in his teeth.

I dropped my gloves to the floor, sat next to him on the boxes and pulled back some tendrils of hair that had come loose from my ponytail.

“Not today, Thursday,” I took a deep breath and then went for it. “You want to go out for a drink or something?”

Heavy stared at me. “Don’t you have girlfriends?” he asked.

I pulled in my lips and hit him in the shoulder. “Forget it,” I said and smiled. “I gotta stretch.”

I got up and walked over to a mat that Heavy had put out for when he showed me moves to defend myself against attack. I dropped down on it and started to stretch.

“You goin’ to the range after this?” Heavy asked, still staring at me.

“Yeah.”

“You goin’ out after that?” he went on and I knew what he meant, was I going out after bad guys.

I’d been giving it some thought especially after what Roam had done. I wasn’t exactly being the best role model.

Still, I was an adult. I was being smart and I was getting trained. I wasn’t a kid pelting a drug dealer with rocks (I had to admit, though I’d never tell Roam, that was a good one).

I looked at Heavy. “I’m going home for food and then, yeah, I’m going out.”

“Be safe,” he said, got up and went into the house.

I stretched and when I was finished I pulled on my black, zip-up sweatshirt and grabbed my bag. I walked into the house and I could see the back of Heavy’s blond head. He was sitting in front of Monday Night Football.

“I’m outta here Heavy,” I called.

“Cool,” Heavy called back.

I walked to the front door and I heard Heavy say my name, so I turned. “What?” I asked, peering around a column to look into the living room.

He’d twisted around the side of his reclining chair to look at me. “I’ll go out for your birthday but not to one of those girlie bars with martinis or any of that shit. American beer. Televisions. Women wearing tight t-shirts. You doin’ that for your birthday?”

I smiled at him. “I could do that.”

“Great. I’ll be there.”

Then he twisted around again and stared at the football.

* * * * *

I went to the range and shot for half an hour then gabbed to Zip for half an hour then went home figuring Vance would be long gone. It was well after eight and I didn’t think Vance was the kind of guy who hung around for long after it was obvious his date had stood him up.

I let myself into the duplex and listened to Boo telling me about his day for a few minutes before I shut him up with some treats. Then I listened to Boo complaining about lack of treats for a few minutes before I shut him up with a kitty cuddle.

I dropped him and took off my clothes, got in the shower and cleaned off the sweat and gun smoke.

When I stopped the shower, Boo was sitting on my toilet seat, staring at me and then he told me how he felt about me stopping his cuddles and taking a shower.

“Oh Boo. Shut up,” I said.

He gave me a look and jumped down off the toilet seat, did a little graceless skid on the bath mat, corrected himself and flounced out of the bathroom, all haughty.

“Damn cat,” I muttered, smiling to myself.

I slathered with lotion that smelled of cucumbers and melon and pulled a comb through my hair. I put on underwear then I yanked on a pair of faded, navy blue, fleecy sweats with a drawstring waistband that I let ride low on my hips. The sweats had loose hems that had a small notch on each side at the ankle. They were too long and rested over most of my feet and dragged under my heels. I pulled on a white, thermal, long-sleeved shirt, scooped up Boo and headed over to Nick’s for leftovers. I knocked on the backdoor and stuck my head in.

“Nick?” I called.

“In the living room,” Nick yelled back, sounding impatient. “Monday Night Football,” he finished, explaining the impatience. You didn’t interrupt Monday Night Football at Nick’s. Or Saturday collegiate games. Or Sunday NFL day.

I walked in, dropped Boo and he pranced into the living room, big, bushy, black tail straight up. Then I heard him immediately complain to Nick about the lack of treats and cuddles on the other side of the house.

I opened Nick’s fridge. “You got any leftovers?” I shouted, head in the fridge.

“In here,” Nick yelled again.

I pulled my head out of the fridge, straightened, closed the fridge, turned and stopped dead.

Vance was standing in Nick’s kitchen in the exact same pose he’d been standing in mine that very morning, arms crossed, hip against the counter.

My eyes narrowed and I crossed the room in a flash, getting in his face.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed in a whisper, forgetting for a moment about our date and thinking he’d broken in, just like he had on my side. I was angry but also a little amazed. He hadn’t made a sound.

“Oh, Jules?” Nick called from the other room, “we got company. Seems you’re a little late for your date. I let him in so he could wait over here.”

Then I heard Nick chuckle to himself.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

When I opened them Vance was grinning at me.

I clenched my teeth.

Vance’s eyes scanned my face. “Murder is illegal,” he said to me.

“I’m willing to do my time; I just don’t know which of you to kill. How much more do you get if it’s a double homicide?” I asked.

His hand shot out and wrapped around my neck then he pulled me to him and I hit his body, full-on. I put my hands on his chest and pressed back with both my neck and my hands but I didn’t move so I gave up.

He got close to my face. “You don’t want me dead, you want me to f**k you. You can kill me after,” he said.

My eyes rounded at his bluntness then I pressed again and his other arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me deeper into him. I tilted my head back and opened my mouth to say something smart but he got there before me.