Page 42 of Protected

“That’s a pretty sad worldview.”

He gives me a surprised look. “It’s a pretty sad world.”

“Yeah. I know it. I used to be so angry about everything I’ve lost. But even back then, I never…” I have to think a minute before I finish the thought. “I never stopped wanting it.”

“I think that’s because you’re a better person than Iam.” He sighs. Says in a hoarse murmur, “If something ever happens to Burgundy, that will be it for me. I won’t even try anymore.”

I reach over to touch his knee through his jeans, squeezing it companionably.

I understand exactly what he’s saying. What he feels. And why he feels that way.

Not everyone is like Deck. Not everyone can hold on to their heart in the face of one assault by the universe after another.

“So you’re not angry anymore?” Micah asks after a minute, sounding curious. And lighter than before.

“I don’t know. I think I still am. But it’s not always on the verge of exploding out of me like it used to be.” I suddenly see myself punching Deck’s shoulders, his wrapped hands. I feel the intense relief at finally letting some of that anger out.

Deck gave that to me. And so much more.

“I’d kind of like to see that.”

“See what?”

“See it all explode out of you.” He’s teasing. His eyes are glinting.

I shake my head, trying for disapproval but barely suppressing giggles. “You’re an asshole, you know.”

“I know. That’s what everyone says when they really get to know me.”

We’re both smiling when I become aware that someone has approached. Deck. I sense his presence before I see him coming around the corner of the house.

My heart leaps in excitement as he takes the porch steps all in one stride and stands in front of us, glowering.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, surprised because he seemed to be in a good mood like me earlier. “Has something happened?”

He looks from me to Micah and back again. He bristles. Then without any hesitation, he turns around and starts to sit down on the swing right between us.

There’s room for two, no problem. But not three. Especially when one of us is as big as Deck. But he doesn’t care. He makes a space for himself and sits down.

“Fuck, man,” Micah says, standing up before he’s completely squeezed off the swing. “You could’ve just asked for my spot.”

Deck scowls at him.

“Stop being ridiculous,” I tell Deck. “Micah and I were just talking.”

His lips curl on one side in a sneer.

Micah doesn’t appear particularly annoyed. He’s half laughing as he sits down on the porch floor, leaning against the house with his legs outstretched.

“We were only talking,” I murmur, checking Deck’s face.

His scowl is softening, but he’s still frowning as he looks between me and Micah.

I find one of his hands and squeeze it. He takes my hand between both of his and lifts it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles and then the palm.

“Oh yeah, right,” Micah says. “No inconvenient feelings happening here at all.”

Deck and I ignore him.

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