~ Present day ~
"Jesus fucking hell. Do you remember when I said you were the most dramatic person I've ever met?" Hawkins rolled his eyes, narrowing them further the longer his gaze lingered.
"Huh... vaguely. Pretty sure I told you I hated you with every fucking fiber of my being right after, yeah? Or was that another time when I just wanted to remind you that I hated you? With absolutely every, and I mean every, fiber of my being?"
"Boo who. How will I possibly go on?"
"Keep talking shit and you won't. Test me. I'll shoot your goddamn birdy little ass down." I pressed my hands into the table for leverage to stand slowly.
"Please tell me I can actually arrest her for that? Can that count as a anything? An act of terrorism? Being an excessive little shit?"
Miles rubbed at his temples, closing his eyes with a groan in an attempt to drown us out. Hawkins rolled his eyes and glared back at me, and just to egg him on more, I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him, fixing my expression back to normal before Miles could see.
Hawkins snapped, jumping from his chair and pointing at me, but Miles was quick to react to the outburst. Slamming his hands down on the metal table, the top reverberated around the room, vibrating my chair.
"I told you to stop antagonizing her, goddammit! Sit down and shut up or I swear to fucking Christ, I'll let Ava decide your punishment." Hawkins paled, his face blank as though he'd seen a ghost. Sitting down without another word, he fixated his eyes on the table, his wide-eyed look slow to return to normal.
I snorted a laugh, wishing so desperately I could see the tiny woman bark orders at the two men in front of me. Miles' angry gaze landed on me next and I almost winced.
"Fucking behave and stop biting each other's throats. You know what's at stake here. Don't fuck it up or you'll go home to an empty bed with no explanation as to why he's not there. Got it?"
Grumbling, I crossed my arms over my chest and gave a curt nod. "Got it, dad. Thanks for the time out. Can I tell my story now without Tweety bird over there interrupting, again?"
"Dani, I highly suggest you lose the attitude. I'm losing my patience with both of you assholes. You two are going to make me pull my hair out."
"Save that for Ava." I threw the joke back at him, gambling with the prod, but I had a feeling it would work. And it did. His lip cocked up in a smile and he huffed a laugh, just her name spoken aloud enough to calm him down.
I narrowed my eyes at Hawkins, who glared back wordlessly. Clearing my throat, I pulled my legs up to sit cross-legged in my chair, ignoring the uncomfortable pang of the metal boring into my ankles.
"Now, back to my story. I might've exaggerated when I said 'murdered', sure, but I explained that to him."
____________________
~ Four years ago ~
"Well, okay, he wasn't technically murdered. But in a way... it's hard to explain if you don't know what happened. So-" I took a deep breath, glancing quickly up at Tucker, who sat silently next to me, "-my uncle worked full time as a janitor. The problem was, he was an immigrant from Sorrento, Italy. And his boss was a stupid, conniving, ball-less fucking piece of-"
Tucker smirked down at me, trying to keep his composure as I veered off track.
"Sorry. Anyway. The man's a fucking prick. He doesn't like anyone different than his old, American, white male ass. Zio used to work fifty, sometimes sixty hours a week cleaning every inch on every floor of that giant ass building. But his paychecks were always fucked. He'd be paid for fifteen, maybe twenty hours if he was lucky. And that was biweekly."
Tucker frowned, an offended look on his face. "That's illegal as fuck. Didn't you guys ever do anything?"
I sighed, pulling my legs up to sit cross-legged, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. "I wish we could've. He was always threatened because he technically wasn't allowed to be here anymore. His visa had expired."
"And he passed away because of this?"
I took a moment, letting the silence prepare me. For the first time since his death, I was telling someone about my uncle. And for the first time since I was fourteen, I was telling someone, aside from Zio, something about me.
"He got sick. It was stupid, too. Pneumonia. Which can kill someone if bad enough, yes, but when you're severely underpaid and have no insurance since you're considered part time by your boss, you can't afford a hospital visit. Shit, even with insurance, hospital visits are expensive. When he asked his boss for some help, he was told no and that if he wanted handouts, to work harder before asking. So, yeah. I took care of him the best that I could, but..."
It wasn't enough. I couldn't help him. I couldn't save him.
I couldn't say the words aloud, instead let my gaze drop to my fingers as they picked aimlessly at the edges of the blanket. Reading me all too easily, Tucker flipped his hand to rest opened on his thigh, letting me reach out to hold it if I wanted to, but as always, not pressuring me for more. Softly, I laid my palm in his and smiled to myself when his long fingers closed around my fist, tiny in comparison to his.
I let his warmth spread through me, closing my eyes and breathing deeply, focusing on him and not the tears I felt trying to escape.
"My uncle was my best friend. He was the only person I've ever trusted before now and... I miss him. I miss him a lot."
Vulnerability overwhelmed me. My lip began to quiver, eyes stung with the inability to hold back much longer. The dam of my eyelids slowly cracked, but I blinked rapidly against it, clearing my throat and jerking my hand back. Standing quickly, I wrapped the blanket tighter around my body, feeling uncharacteristically naked as I searched for comfortable clothes to dive into and stay in until I gained my sanity back.
"I'm hungry. You hungry?" I asked, lifting my chin to look at him as I slid my sweatpants on, pulling on my oversized hoodie next.
Self-reminder to bump the air conditioning down so I don't sweat my balls off later.
"Uh-"
"Cool. I'll make food." I shuffled out of there as quickly as I could, my back on fire under the curious stare I felt stabbing into it.
I made a run for the kitchen, slowing only to turn the air down, and jerked my cabinet open, grabbing for the flour. I dumped it onto the counter with too much haste, a white cloud masking my line of sight and blocking the face a low chuckle resonated from.
"You're a fucking train wreck," he joked, rounding the counter and stepping next to me, his hand wiping the flour from my face.
I huffed, grabbing a handful from the pile before me and throwing it at him, squealing and ducking away when he reached for me once more. As he wiped the powder from his eyes, I grabbed the eggs from the fridge and grabbed one from its carton, at the ready in case he came at me again.
He put his hands out in front of him in surrender, but his eyes held pure mischief. He dipped low and put his shoulder into me, his arms wrapping around me and lifting me over his shoulder. I flailed like a rag-doll, screaming and beating my empty hand on his back, but then I had a wicked thought, twisting and slapping the egg I held down on the top of his head.
An obnoxious laugh left my lips, but my victory was short lived when he set my ass on the pile of flour on the counter, a giant cloud spewing all around us. He lifted my hoodie, ducking below and wiping his head on my skin, smearing the egg all around.
I squealed, pushing him away, but my constant laughter weakened me, my half-assed shoves nothing but little touches to his larger frame. Finally, he straightened back up, his face red from laughing, glimmering against the light above as though he was a kid at a carnival, just having won the biggest stuffed animal.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I giggled, wincing as I stretched my jaw out against the tensed muscles my face now had.
The smile on his face slowly mellowed, becoming more serious as he stared down at me. His fingers curved around my jaw and cheek, his thumb stroking over my lower lip.
Jesus fuck, this feels intimate. Abort, Dani. Abort mission!
"Shower?" I offered, my tongue peeking slowly from between my teeth, teasing the tip of his thumb still resting against my mouth.
Yeah, dumbass. Because that is less intimate. Hopeless.
Tucker didn't respond, just moved his hands to grab my thighs and lift me to him, leaving the mess of a kitchen behind and making our way upstairs.
I undressed on autopilot, stuck in my head at the realization that I'd told him more about me within an hour than I had told anyone but my uncle in years. I was taking the bricks off of the wall I'd so meticulously built to keep myself safe, but without even asking, I'd given him answers.
"What happened to your wife?"
I knew I had no right to ask, but then again, he could simply say no. He'd never once pushed me to tell him anything, never demanded answers from me, but I found myself desperate to know him. I wanted to know everything about him.
So even though he froze, his hands balled in his shirt at his waist, and his face screamed to let it go, I couldn't help myself.
"Tucker, what happened to her? To you?"
He stood still as stone for another moment, then calmly and quietly walked out of the room and then the house. His car blazed to life as I stood motionless in the bathroom, alone, my nakedness mocking me in my mirrored reflection.