Chapter 6 – Josie
Chapter Six
JOSIE
Bam flips the hook to the chain-link fence, opening it for me. I head up the sidewalk and the stairs that lead to the small patio of my home. The house once belonged to my grams before she died a few years ago.
Grams was more of a mom to me than a grandma. Living with her allowed Dad to keep his job and raise me. He’s always made good money trucking, and that was how he was able to keep both of us on his insurance.
The man is always working. I hope one day he’ll be able to slow down, but without insurance, it would be rough. My meds aren’t cheap. While I hate how much he is gone, I also appreciate how hard he works.
The house is small with only a ten-foot by ten-foot yard. All of the houses on our street are squeezed together. I pull out my keys, sliding them into the lock. The second I open the door, the alarm starts to go off. I hurry in quickly, putting in the code.
When I turn back around, Bam is right there behind me, the door already closed behind him. For as big and broad as he is, he’s also quick and stealthy.
“I’m supposed to invite you in,” I point out.
“Want me to go stand on the porch and knock?”
“No, because I’m already going to get a call about you.” The ring camera would have caught us entering the house. No sooner are the words out of my mouth than my phone is ringing. I quickly pull it out. My dad’s name lights up the screen. This is a new record for him.
“You okay?” Dad asks the second I pick up the call.
“I’m fine, just got home.”
“I know. Who’s the man, Josie?” I knew this line of questioning was coming. I can tell Bam was not expecting it by the way his brows rise; he can hear my father through the line.
“It’s not a man,” I protest. Bam puts his hand over his chest like I insulted him. “It’s a boy from school, and he was nice enough to walk me home.” I can tell just by the sound of my father’s breathing that he doesn’t agree with me.
“Yeah, he looked nice with all those tattoos,” my father scoffs. Bam glances down to his arms, running his hand up one.
“You’re really judgmental for a man with tattoos of his own,” I point out, feeling a sense of protectiveness when it comes to Bam. Those tattoos offer him a form of protection and authority.
“I know what boys that age with tattoos are up to.” He forgets I’m eighteen. Barely eighteen but I am.
“All right, Dad.” I let out a small laugh.
“He’s nice, and he’s my partner on a school project.
” It’s only a white lie. It’s for the best. I don’t want to worry my father.
“To be honest with you, Dad, I’m using him.
He might not look it, but he’s super smart.
” Bam presses his lips together to suppress a laugh.
Good call; my dad doesn’t need to hear him laughing. It will piss him off, I’m sure.
“You’re super smart,” he tosses right back.
“Well, I guess that means that we will get a kick-ass grade.”
“Josie,” Dad sighs.
“Dad,” I sigh right back. “I’m good. I promise he’s sweet. Hasn’t even tried to steal a kiss or cop a feel.”
“Jesus Christ, Josie,” Dad mutters. Bam puts his hands up, stepping back.
“I love you, Dad. I’m home, and I’m good.” He lets out another deep breath.
“All right, I trust you, sweetheart, but know that if he hurts you in some way, I’ll kill him, and then I’ll go to jail.”
“Dad!” I hiss. “You think we couldn’t hide a body? You underestimate us.” He lets out a low chuckle, and I smile because it worked. I got him to cool it.
“He’s big, but I’ve got a big saw in the garage. I suppose you’re right.” I snort a laugh. “I love you, Josie; you be careful.”
We say our goodbyes before ending the call. “So.” I bounce on my heels. “That’s my dad.”
“I like him.”
“Well, I don’t think the feeling is mutual.” I drop my bag on the couch.
“I’m going to set this.”
“Oh.” Disappointment fills me that he’s leaving already. I thought he might stick around, but I’m sure he has a life of his own. “I can set it.”
“I got it.”
“But you—” I stop talking when he enters the code to rearm the alarm. “You watched me enter the code?” Bam shrugs. “Good.” I nod in approval. “See, I was right. You are smart.” The man really pays attention to things. That will come in handy.
I’m sure I should be worried about him having the code, but I’m not. If Bam wanted to hurt me, he’s had that chance.
“Told you. I’m here to keep you safe.”
“Then I need to eat. You hungry?”
“I could eat.” Bam’s eyes flick up and down me.
“Are you being dirty and flirting with me?”
“Are you good with that?”
“I’m not opposed to you having a crush on me, but remember,” I point at him, “no falling in love with me.”
“But what if I’m already there?” He smirks. I think he’s teasing me. Is he, though? More importantly, do I want him to be?
“Do you like pasta? I have leftover spaghetti with meat sauce.” I totally change the subject as I head toward the kitchen. I don’t need to turn around to know Bam is on my heels. I can feel him. “The noodles are whole grain, but I think the sauce covers up the taste that some find odd.”
“I’m good with anything.” His eyes flick around the kitchen.
“It’s kinda old school, I know. I can’t bring myself to take down some of the weird things my grams hung around here.”
“The giant fork and spoon are very retro.”
“They’re almost as tall as me,” I joke. “I bet if we removed them from their wall, there’d be an outline.” I snort a laugh.
My phone starts to chime, my alert going off.
“You need to get that?” Bam asks when I glance at it but put it back down on the counter.
“I’m getting it.” I walk over to the fridge, opening it to pull out the leftover pasta and one of my insulin pens. “I think she’s mad I had the chocolate cake.”
Bam takes the Tupperware container from me, setting it down on the counter before reaching for the injector in my hand.
“What is this?” He turns it over. “Insulin? You’re diabetic?”
“Yeah.” I take it back from him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His expression morphs to anger. “You let me get you chocolate cake.”
“I did.” I pop the cap and lift my shirt to inject it into my stomach.
“Josie—”
“See, this is why I don’t tell people. I’m back to Josie. What about rebel?” I don’t want people treating me differently. As soon as someone finds out, that’s exactly what they tend to do. They start handling me with kid gloves or telling me I can’t or shouldn’t do certain things.
“Not going to treat you differently.” Bam runs his fingers through his hair, making it messier, which only makes it hotter. How does he do that? “I’m your assistant. I should know these things.” He pulls out his phone.
“Are you googling diabetes?”
“Maybe.”
“Really?” I study him. He really is worried. Maybe it’s not the worst to be treated differently if it’s in a caring way.
“Yeah, I am.” The determination in his tone has me letting it go. It’s hard to be irritated with someone when all they are doing is trying to look out for you.
“Okay fine, but sit.” I point to one of the chairs at the small table pushed against the wall in the kitchen. Bam does as I order, dropping down in the chair. I don’t fight the smile that takes over my face while I fix us both a plate and grab him a soda and myself a water.
I drop down across from him with a few of my notebooks, flipping them open while answering a few of Bam’s questions about diabetes.
“You know, I only have the names of people I’ve noticed that are missing. There could be more,” I tell Bam, flipping a couple of pages.
“And not everyone is going to be quick to report a person missing around here.”
I nod in agreement. “But their school will still mark those absences.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“We need to get into the school system and see. I’ll do my school, and can you do yours?” That will be a good start.
“We’ll do them together.” My fork pauses, almost to my mouth.
“Like you’re going to come to my school?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I debate this. “One of us could distract a teacher while the other gets the information.”
“We could do it that way.”
“You don’t have to knock people’s heads together to get information.”
“You say that now until you can’t get it.”
“Fair point.” I might be okay with it if push comes to shove. “Let’s try my way first.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll stay here tonight, and then we’ll hit your school first.”
“Okay, then—” I pause. “Did you say you’re going to stay here?”
“I guess I could come back in the morning.” He shrugs.
“Which do you think would be better?”
“If I stay,” he says without hesitation.
“Okay,” I agree. His brows lift. I don’t think he thought I was going to agree so easily, but this house is lonely. I know he lives alone too.
“Okay? That easy?”
“Yep.” I shove a giant bite into my mouth.
I know I shouldn’t get used to having Bam around, but what’s the harm in one night?