Page 81 of Even After Sunset

“I didn’t run away.”

He nods.

“Just road trippin’ with your lady-friend, then.”

“Something like that.”

He’s still watching me with that same expression; his right eye half-closed.

I rock back on the balls of my feet and meet his eyes.

“Look, I’d really appreciate a second chance at that unloading gig,” I swallow, my mouth suddenly really dry. “I could really use the money… And I swear I’lllay off the booze.” I lick my lips, because they’re dry now, too. “I’ll show up on time. I’ll even show up early. And I promise you won’t regret it… If you just give me another shot.”

His right eye opens to its full size and now I see what I didn’t see before.

Empathy.

I don’t know what this guy’s story is, but he gets it. Like, hereallygets it. There’s understanding there, and he wants to help me out. But also, he doesn’t want to be taken for a ride. He doesn’t trust that a punk like me isn’t going to shit all over his kindness. And clearly, he’s not the sort of guy who lets people push him around.

“I mean it,” I tell him—because I do. “I won’t let you down.”

He nods slowly.

“Alright… I’ll pick up what you’re puttin’ down, kid. But you better not disappoint me.”

God. That line…Again.

“I won’t.”

We shake on it.

And I’ve got my job back.

And I want to head straight to the beer tent and flirt with the girl who works there—sweet-talk my way into a few free cans, because I know it’ll work. I’ve done it a couple of times before.

I bite down hard on my lower lip and curse under my breath. I bypass the beer tent and head back to Jax and Trudy.

I should feel proud. I don’t. I feel like a shot of something strong.

I feel shaky and frustrated as hell.

But also more determined than any of those other feelings, to prove Steve’s doubts about me wrong.

So there’s a chance, at least, that I won’t totally screw this up.

There’s a thin cloud of smoke wafting out of Trudy’s open window when I get back. I can see Jax’s silhouette inside, waving a dish towel around like a madwoman.

“Crap!” she shouts when she sees me standing in the doorway. “You’re not going to believe it, Silas… I—”

“Burned the cookies again,” I finish for her. “Are they all out of the oven?”

She actually has the audacity to look offended. “What do you mean,again?I didn’t burn the cookies that time! They were—”

“Crispy. Yeah, I remember.”

I reach around her and yank open the other window, then head into her bedroom and open that window, too.

“Oh my gosh… I don’t get it!” she wails from the kitchen. “I literally left them in for maybe three extra minutes!”

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