I park down the street a bit, feeling nervous, a little foolish, and presumptive.
Riley himself comes out of the house, a white N95 mask covering his face and a yellow hard hat on his head. He tugs the mask down around his throat and puts his phone to his ear.
"Mel? Hey. No, I'm gonna be awhile. We’re almost done with this demo, and we decided to work late until it’s done. Nah, I’llgrab something after with the guys.” He sighs, facing the side of the hood of his truck and slumping over it, frustration in his body language. “Mel, I’m sorry—I’m the boss. I can’t just peace out. Yes, I like you. Yes, I want to spend time with you. It’s not personal…Mel,fuck. Okay, you know what? You knew my hours when we first started hanging out. They haven’t changed. Right now, work comes first. My guys come first…Oh, is that so? Cool. Cool. Go for it. Have fun with JohnnyfuckingRicardo. Yeah, fuck you too."
With a vicious snarl, he stabs the end button, starts to throw his phone, and then just barely restrains himself. He makes a fist, starts to punch his truck, and thinks better of that, too.
He turns in a slow circle, raking his hard hat off and throwing it violently against the side of the big green roll-off dumpster.
Which is when he sees me. "Noelle Harper." He has dirt smeared across his nose and left cheek, a cut on his chin, and pain in his eyes. "What…um, what're you doing here?"
I smile at him. "Hey, Riley."
He winces. "Overheard that, huh?"
I shrug. "Yeah. Sorry, you're going through that."
He shakes his head, sighing. "It wasn't serious, but I liked her. She told me either I meet her for drinks or she'd accept Johnny Ricardo's invitation instead."
I frown. "Johnny Ricardo?Thatguy? I heard he makes drugs or something."
Riley laughs. "He's a notorious meth cook, yeah. Not a good dude."
"Well, it's none of my business, but if she's going out with him, maybe you dodged a bullet," I say, and then glance at a cluster of guys coming out of the house. "I was, um, looking for Bear."
Riley's face lights up. "Bear? You know Bear?"
I nod, hoping my blush isn't too obvious—or my embarrassment and nerves. "Yeah, I do. We, um…we've been hanging out. He's working late, obviously, and we were supposed to meet, so I thought I’d see if he wanted a ride home."
Riley's eyes glint with amusement. "Bear's a tight-lipped one. I've known him for over three years now, and I don't know much more about him than the day I met him. I have to say, I’m thrilled to know he has a…friend."
He's angling for more info, but I just smile and shrug. "Yeah, he's pretty private."
Riley smirks. "Not gettin' any gossip outta you, am I?"
I grin. "Nope. If he wants to share it, he'll share it."
He crosses to pick up his hard hat and places it back on his head. "Honestly, good. He's a good dude. Been through a lot. He deserves someone in his corner."
"He has you. He says your program gave him a second chance at life."
Riley nods. "Appreciate that, Noelle. I'm picky about who I let into the program. For the program to succeed, the guys in it have to succeed, and the guards and warden at Holbrook had nothing but positive things to say about Bear. He's put in the work and then some.” He points at a house across the street that has a roll-off in the driveway, overflowing with demolition refuse. “He’s in there. He works best alone, I’ve discovered, mainly because he can do the work of four people by himself. You can go in, just be careful, it’s a work zone. He throws that hammer around like he’s Thor or some shit.” He yanks open his truck door, leans in, and grabs a hard hat and safety glasses. “In fact, put these on, just to be safe. He’s a madman when he's working."
I take them, frowning at him. "A madman?"
He nods. "He works like a man possessed. Never seen anything like it." Someone calls his name, and he juts his chin at me. "Gotta go. You'll see what I mean!"
I cross the street, holding the hard hat and glasses and feeling increasingly stupid for this whole thing. I feel eyes on me and glance back at the house Riley went into—several guys stand huddled together by the dumpster, sharing cigarettes and whispering…about me, probably.
Hopefully, I haven’t caused any problems for Bear.
The front door is open, and I hear music playing—hard rock from the local station. I hear smashing, creaking, crashing.
Placing the hat on my head—it's too big, wobbling like I'm a kid wearing a fireman's helmet—and the glasses on my nose, I go up the steps.
A low snarl greets me, and a dark shadow appears from the haze of swirling dust: Panzer.
“Hey boy, it's me. It's Noelle." I stay where I am and wait for him to get closer, that vicious, guttural snarl turning my guts to water. A second later, the snarl cuts off, and Panzer is nuzzling my thigh, tail whipping dangerously. He yips once, looking up at me happily. I crouch and let him kiss my face as I rub his ears. “Hiya, handsome boy. Hi, hi, hi." I stand up, wipe slobber off my face, and follow the dog into the house.
