Page 19 of A Brother At My Back

“Well, I’d like to get you trained up on how to use a gun, and I think you should be able to defend yourself close-quarters like, in case he comes around wanting a hiding.”

“Want to what?” she looked at me wide-eyed and a little stricken.

“Sorry, that means wanting to fight you. This way you can fight back.”

“He’s a rodeo star, there is no fighting him. He’s twice my size, and plus, that is totally not what I thought you meant.”

I frowned, “What’d ya think I meant?”

She raised her eyebrows and gave me a flat look and I still wasn’t getting it. I shook my head and she sighed.

“Rape is such an ugly word, but it can and does happen even to women like me.”

“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant at all, eh.”

“It’s a possibility, though,” she said grimly. “There are worse things than dying; for me that’s one of them.”

“Hey, ain’t gonna happen, we’ll get you right.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Nah, I know I am.”

“Alright, here’s your plates and here’s your tab, you guys can settle up any time you’d like.” Hayley set down our food silencing any further conversation for the time being. She smiled brightly and whisked a ticket out of her apron pocket, setting it at the edge of the table before heading back into the kitchen. Tiff set a twenty on top of it. A twenty stained with red lipstick.

“Eh, no I got this,” I said and she smiled at me and shook her head.

“You said you were buying me dinner with it, remember?”

“Ah, I did, that. Didn’t I?”

I let Hayley take it after adding a bit more to it to cover the rest of the tab and a hefty tip.

Tiffany smiled and it held an edge of sadness. We didn’t talk much for the rest of the meal. Hayley came by and took the pay with thanks and I honestly had to say that I felt a pang of something, watching that twenty with its bit of red color whisked away. Couldn’t stop thinking about it, actually.

When we got out to the bike, I felt a bit bad that it was so cold but I said, “Forgot something, be right back, okay?”

“Sure,” Tiff murmured and leaned her shapely butt against the seat of my bike. I ran back inside and fished out my wallet, going to Hayley at the counter.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“That twenty we paid you with, I’d like to buy it.”

Hayley laughed a little, incredulous. “I put it in the register, how will I know which one it is?”

“No worries,” I told her, “I’ll know.”

She opened up the register and fanned them out and the third bill down I pointed it out and said, “That one.” She handed it across to me and I passed her a couple of tens out of my wallet.

“Thanks.”

“Sure, no problem,” she said, mystified.

I went back out to take Tiff home, her somber yet curious gaze following me from the front door, down the steps, and all the way down the car park to where she sat, patiently waiting.

“All good, then,” I said cheerfully and she gave me a nod. She didn’t ask and I wasn’t volunteering. It was a quiet ride back to her place as far as the conversation went.

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