Maybe Swearing Will Help

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  He gestured to the cat.

  “What are you gonna do with that?”

  It was then I realized that all the students that’d been hanging around my car were gone. Leaving me with a cat and nobody to take it.

  I smiled. “You know,” I said softly. “Rowen was just saying how much she wanted a kitten.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  I smiled and got into my car, being sure to pick the tiny kitten up off the roof of my car, still wrapped in the towel, as I did.

  Knowing Dax was pretty serious about not wanting a cat, and also knowing how Rowen was going on and on about how busy she was at work this morning on the ride in, I realized rather quickly that this cat wouldn’t be for them.

  I did, however, stop and drop the kitty off at the shelter with promises that I’d be back later this afternoon to do my part.

  Then I drove to the ex-strip club that Dax had informed me that they were training at and stared in shock.

  The titties were still up on the billboard.

  They hadn’t even bothered to take them off the side of the building, either.

  “Wow,” I said, looking at the dilapidated building that looked like it could use a fresh coat of paint.

  Movement caught my eyes, and I looked to the side of the building to see that the bay doors were open and there were men flipping tires in the side lot.

  Parking my car and grabbing my file folder since it looked like they were busy, I got out and made my way around the side of the building, my mouth going dry at all the sweaty, hard bodies that I could see.

  My eyes took in everything, stopping when one body, in particular, caught my attention.

  Ford was wearing a pair of sweatpants that were cut off at the knee, a pair of tennis shoes with long red, white and blue Under Armour socks, and a black baseball cap.

  That was it.

  His bare torso, with his scars, was on full display as he used his arms and legs to propel himself up the length of the rope hanging from the ceiling just inside the bay doors.

  My eyes stayed glued on the man who had my heart. The man who, with eleven other hard bodies around, still was the only one to catch and hold my eye.

  “Ashe.”

  I looked up to see Hayes walking toward me, a half-finished bottle of water in his hand.

  “Hayes,” I said. “How are you?”

  I looked at him to see that he was just as sweaty as everyone else, but he did look like he’d finished a while ago. Though he was sweaty, he wasn’t actively dripping it anymore.

  “Goin’ good. How about yourself?” he asked curiously.

  I gestured to a file folder.

  “I thought I’d get a little light reading done while Ford does what Fords do,” I teased, gesturing to the tailgate. “Can I sit?”

  He gestured at it with a sweep of his hand.

  “I’m sure that Sammy Boy won’t mind,” he teased.

  I took a seat, taking three tries to get my ass up onto the tailgate since Samuel’s truck was so tall, and crossed my legs underneath of me.

  Hayes got up the first try and watched the festivities.

  Rope climbs weren’t for the weak of heart. I could see from here that several of the men had bleeding palms. And Ford’s were no better.

  Ford was on his twentieth or so since I’d gotten there, and Foster, his team leader, was keeping up with him easily.

  If you didn’t look at Foster’s face and hair, you’d never even realize that he was older.

  Not with how well he filled out a pair of tactical pants and a tight t-shirt.

  “What you got there?” Hayes asked, still covered in sweat.

  I showed him my dossier on the Hell to Haughton killer.

  He read over it, glancing slightly at my face, before saying, “That one mean something to you?”

  I swallowed hard.

  Then explained that one of my good friends had indeed been one of the victims.

  “You can say that it means something to me,” I concurred.

  He held out his hand for the folder, and I handed it to him.

  “Where is Haughton in relation to where we are?” he asked curiously as he scanned the paperwork.

  “About an hour and a half, give or take,” I replied. “Depending on the weather, the number of people that are on the road…”

  “The position of the sun?” he teased.

  My lips twitched as I stopped talking.

  “You got jokes,” I taunted right back. “I’ve got to say…this is the first time I’ve ever really talked to you. Why aren’t you out there working out and doing that stuff still?”

  I gestured at the men that were spending their mandatory two hours training.

  “I did it this morning,” he answered. “I have a hike I’m going to this afternoon, and I didn’t want to be too tired for it.”

  “What kind of hike?” I asked curiously.

  He glanced at me before his eyes went back to the papers in his hand.

  “A veteran PTSD fight hike,” he answered. “It’s something a group of vets in the area do. I think it’s just to get some of us vets out of the house, out of our heads, and get us spending time with people. The guy that organizes it is an ex-Marine. Was in Vietnam, so he knows how it is.”

  I stayed silent as I let him speak, my smile gripping my face as I thought about him.

  “You should take Ford with you,” I said. “Sometimes I feel like… I don’t want to bug him. But maybe he should have a friend that knows what he’s going through.”

  Ultimately, Ford had it together. There were sometimes, though, that I found him looking at me, but his eyes just weren’t there. It was as if he was seeing something from his memories that only he could see.

  “I’ve asked,” Hayes said. “They all turn me down.”

  My brows lifted.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t ask,” I suggested.

  Hayes burst out laughing, causing Ford to turn and look at us in surprise.

  I gave him a little finger wave, causing his eyes to narrow.

  He mouthed something at me that looked like ‘what the fuck’ but then went back to climbing his rope beside Foster.

  “This here.” He pointed. “It’s very vague. I mean, pretty much anyone in the KPD would fit the bill of this person’s ‘possibilities.’”

  I agreed.

  “Foster’s probably out,” I teased. “This is a white male, thirty to fifty.”

  Hayes winked, then went silent as he continued to work through the papers.

  “You’re a criminal psychologist?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Not yet. Working on it, though.”

  “How much longer do you have?” he wondered.

  I looked at my watch.

  “Four months or so,” I answered. “Then I’m the full mamma jamma.”

  “Mamma jamma?” he laughed.

  I shrugged, unconcerned.

  “I no longer have to go to school and I get to say I’m an actual Criminal Psychologist,” I amended for him.

  He winked at me, then went back to reading.

  Ford stopped midway up the rope and cursed, his hand coming away bloody.

  “What’s wrong, pretty boy?” Foster asked, catching up to him. “Your poor wittle hand hurwts?”

  Ford snorted and finished out that particular rope climb, but when he got back down to the bottom, he didn’t jump back up like he’d been doing.

  “This fucking throbs,” he said as he showed Foster.

  Foster snorted, laughter filling his voice as he said, “It could be worse.”

  I snorted, causing both men to turn their gazes toward me.

  Ford winked.

  Foster looked rather indifferent.

  “Ashe,” he said, walking toward me. “When did you get here?”

  I gestured at his body. “You’ve done about thirty rope climbs since
I walked in. If that gives you any indication as to how long I’ve been here.”

  Ford shrugged and walked to me, stopping about a foot away.

  At first, I thought that was going to be as far as he went, but he surprised me by taking that final step forward and dropping a kiss onto my upturned lips.

  “How was school?” he asked.

  I grimaced. Then told him about the kitten I’d rescued from the storm drain.

  “All the kids kept yelling about IT,” I said. “I’m going to have to go watch the movie now.”

  Ford shrugged. “I’m down as long as you don’t treat me differently after I scream like a girl.”

  I scoffed.

  “You would never…”

  “He would,” Hayes confirmed. “He’s a little bitch, after all.”

  Ford flipped Hayes off, then turned back to me.

  “I’m done in about an hour,” he said. “Can you stay here until then?”

  I could, which I told him so in the next moment.

  “I can,” I said. “I just have to leave to take my car to the dealership to get them to change my oil. Why?”

  He gestured to me and said, “We’ll take it when we’re done. Pick it up in the morning.”

  I shrugged, uncaring of how it got done as long as it did.

  “Fine with me,” I agreed. “As long as you feed me afterward.”

  Ford winked at me, then went on to flipping the tires right along with a few of the other guys.

  It wasn’t until I was looking in Hayes’ direction that I realized he was staring at me in surprise.

  “What?”

  “You have a little bit of drool” —he wiped my chin with his thumb— “right there.”

  I laughed and pushed his hand away.

  “I like you, Hayes,” I said softly.

  He winked as if me liking him made him happy.

  And over the next hour, just before Hayes had to leave for his hike, I got the feeling that not many people did. At least, that was how he felt, anyway.

  Chapter 14

  My people skills are fine. It’s my tolerance that needs work.

  -T-shirt

  Ford

  Ashe cursed when she read the text message from the shelter’s owner that she volunteered at.

  “What?”

  She placed her phone in between her thighs and rubbed her face with her hands.

  “We have to run by the shelter,” she said tiredly. “One of the ladies that I work with said that some woman left a box of kittens outside of our door. She saw it on the camera feed when it alerted her of movement.”

  “Why can’t she go get it?” I groaned.

  God, I was literally exhausted.

  If I could fall asleep right now, I would.

  “She’s in Wichita Falls,” she answered. “Her daughter is getting married this weekend. She’ll be gone for the next week.”

  I groaned and turned around, heading the opposite way.

  We arrived at the shelter within minutes, and the moment that Ashe stood up out of the truck, she clutched at her stomach.

  “What?” I asked curiously.

  “I’m starving, and I think my belly is digesting itself,” she joked.

  I snorted and walked toward the front door where I could see a box leaning against the glass.

  “Can you get the box while I get the door?” she asked.

  I wanted to lean over and pick that box up about as much as I wanted to go back to that call tonight.

  “Fuckkk,” I groaned as I bent and picked up the box.

  I didn’t know what I was expecting when I picked it up, but it being heavy definitely wasn’t it.

  “Jesus,” I said as the kittens in the box moved. “What in the hells bells is going on here?”

  My arms were practically falling off by the time that I picked them up and moved them.

  It was at this point that the cats started to go a little bit nuts with the movement.

  “You’re a big wiener today.” Ashe laughed as she started to turn lights on to illuminate the dark hallway.

  I ignored the office cat that was lying on the counter in the main room and made my way into the bowels of cat country.

  “There’s got to be a shit ton of kittens in here for this to weigh so much,” I admitted as I placed the box onto the table in the middle of the little room where they kept the kittens.

  I tried not to look at the excited eyes of the many kittens already filling up the wire cages along the wall and instead paid attention to the box in front of me.

  There was a written message on the box with the cats that simply said, “I can’t let him treat these cats like this anymore.”

  I scowled at the note and showed it to Ashe.

  She frowned and pulled out her phone, taking a photo of the box.

  I watched as she poured litter into tiny litter boxes and filled up food and water dishes.

  Only then did she start to untape the box.

  While Ashe did her thing with the cats, I returned my mother’s call that I’d missed while I’d been working out earlier.

  The phone rang three times before my mom answered.

  “Hello?” she answered, sounding happy and excited that I’d called her back.

  Which immediately made me feel bad, seeing as I hadn’t talked to her in a week except by text messages.

  “Hey,” I said. “What did you need earlier? I was training and not paying attention to my phone.”

  I listened to my mother drone on and on about her day, about my dad, and then about something that had happened at work.

  It was as she was getting to the part about what tomorrow would be bringing when Ashe moved suddenly.

  I blinked and watched as she headed for the trashcan, bent over it, and started to heave.

  “Umm, hold on a second, Mom,” I said as I placed the phone down onto the counter and walked to where Ashe was currently throwing up into the trashcan.

  “You okay?” I asked, pulling her hair away from her face and rubbing her neck.

  She moaned. “Yeah. The ammonia smell was strong.”

  When she stood up, I saw that her face was stark white, and I moved forward to place my hands on her hips.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You look kind of bad.”

  Kind of was an understatement. She looked terrible.

  She waved my comment away with a sweep of her hand.

  “It was just a long day,” she answered. “I’m starving and hot and tired. I think it was a combination of all of those things that” —she waved toward the box— “just surprised me.”

  I finally let her go and gestured for her to get finished up.

  “Hurry up so we can leave. I’ll feed you,” I murmured.

  She gave me a half-ass salute then went back to what she was doing, being careful not to get too close to the box again.

  I went to the phone and picked it back up, placing it to my ear.

  “Sorry, Mom,” I said. “I’m back.”

  “What was that?” she asked.

  I explained about the kittens, and the smell of the box after Ashe had opened it.

  “Oh,” she said softly. “Gotcha.”

  I rubbed at my face as I watched Ashe take the kittens out of the smelly box and place them into the cages where they would be staying for the night.

  “So what was it you wanted to talk about?” I questioned, my eyes taking in Ashe’s every move.

  Something was niggling at me, and I couldn’t figure out what.

  “It’s Banner,” she said softly. “I… your dad thinks that he needs to come stay with y’all for next school year.”

  My brows rose.

  “It’s gotten that bad?” I questioned softly.

  My mother cleared her throat.

  “Banner almost got arrested yesterday,” she explained. “He was working at the shop in town when Vance showe
d up wanting to get his new car’s oil changed. Or some bullshit excuse. Petey took the car and did the work himself. When Vance came to pick it up, he accused Petey of denting the car and it just deteriorated from there. The cops were called, and then all of a sudden, Vance is going crazy. And since Banner still cares about Vance, he got him calmed down only for Vance to sucker punch Banner while he wasn’t looking. Banner retaliated and… your dad thinks that Banner just needs to go. This wasn’t the first incident and it won’t be the last.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck with two fingers.

  “What does Banner think about this?” I asked curiously.

  My mother sighed. “He’s justifiably pissed. He doesn’t want to leave because of football. He thinks he’s letting everyone down… but I’d rather him be unhappy than in jail, Ford. So I’m with your dad. He needs to go before he gets in trouble.”

  “He can stay with me,” I paused. “But, Mom, he’s almost eighteen. I can get him a place here.”

  Ashe looked up and waved her hand in the air.

  “He can stay at my place,” Ashe suggested when I placed my hand over the speaker. “I was thinking about moving to an actual duplex anyway once I graduated.”

  Her place would work famously, actually.

  Which I told my mom about in the next moment.

  My mother sighed. “I was hoping that he would live with you.”

  I snorted. “Mom, you know that Banner and I love each other. But those duplexes that we live in are too small.”

  “Your sister’s, then,” Mom offered.

  “Oakley wouldn’t give a shit. Just like I don’t mind him living with me,” she knew that. “But Banner’s not going to want to deal with a brand-new baby when it gets here.”

  And my mother knew I was right.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll discuss him living on his own with your father.” She paused. “He’ll probably like that better anyway. At least give him a little bit of incentive to go.”

  That was true.

  Ashe finished with the cats and began washing her hands, and it was the turn of her body in the direction of the sink that had my gaze narrowing in on her chest.

  Were her breasts bigger?

  “Are you even listening to me?” my mother asked.

  I blinked, surprised to find that I’d completely zoned out as I was thinking about whether or not Ashe’s chest was bigger or not.