CHAPTER 13
EQUALIZER
I tried not to look as scared as I felt as I walked into Nicole’s house with her father. The place did not feel the same as it did when I was with her alone in her room. Sheriff Skye walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a can of beer.
“Have a seat, Thomas.” Sheriff Skye dropped into a recliner, and I perched on the edge of the couch cushion, wondering if it was possible for my balls to rise back up into my body post-puberty. They sure as hell felt like they were trying to. Sheriff Skye continued eyeing me for a little while as he tipped his beer back a few times. He finally put it down on the TV tray next to the chair and leaned forward a little with his arms across his thighs.
“You were in my daughter’s bed last night, Thomas.”
Oh fuckity fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.
I couldn’t exactly lie at that point—he obviously knew—but what the hell could I possibly say that wouldn’t get me into a shitload more trouble than I was already probably in?
“I didn’t…I mean…I was, but I didn’t do anything. I…I…”
He still has his gun on.
A cold chill ran up my back and down my arms. I was having a hard time drawing air into my lungs as if my throat was closing up on me.
He stood up.
Oh fuck…
“Thomas…son?” I heard his voice and saw him take a couple steps closer to me.
“I wouldn’t….do anything to her…” I still couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!”
“I know you didn’t,” he said. “Nicole told me all about it.”
A whole other chill took over at that point as I wondered just what Rumple told him.
“All about what?” I whispered.
“She told me you were upset about something and came here last night. I didn’t get any of the details as to why, but I got the idea you weren’t in the best of places at the time.”
My throat relaxed, and I could breathe again, so I took a really deep breath all at once, nearly choking myself.
“Hey, Thomas?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Um…yeah,” I said.
Sheriff Skye went over to a small table by the door leading to the back yard and opened up the center drawer. He stuck his hand way in the back and pulled out a pack of Marlboros and a box of matches.
“Don’t say anything to Nicole, okay? She’d string me up.”
I laughed from relief more than humor.
“Want to step outside with me a minute?”
“Okay.”
He opened up the back door and ushered me out. A small set of steps led down to a cement patio in the back of the house. A couple of potted plants flanked the door, but there were no chairs or anything, so we sat down just outside the door on the top step. Sheriff Skye leaned back against the side of the house and lit one of the cigarettes from his pack with the flick of a match on his thumb.
It was kind of intimidating.