Next up, Max to share what was going down and get him to share the same with Callahan. Not to mention tell him that Deke was not at work that day but if Chace opened up the house, he was taking Jussy back the next day and getting on with it. The longer it took for her to get back in the saddle, the more fear she could build up about being in the place where it all went down.
It was her home. Deke needed to help her sweep that away.
That said, she’d be with him while he worked and they’d be back in the trailer when he was done until Callahan was finished with his work.
Then they’d stay at her house.
Last, Jacob Decker.
He needed to find Bianca Constantine’s ass.
For Jussy’s peace of mind for her friend.
And to find a way to get this shit done.
* * * * *
The women took off when Deke returned to the trailer and when he returned he saw they’d gotten her into his bed.
Fuck, Jussy in his bed.
She was eyes aimed his way down the trailer, on her side, hands under her healthy cheek, those eyes open and on him.
He moved that way and made his decision when he did.
So when he got there, gentle with her like she was crystal, he adjusted her so he had his back to the wall at the head of the bed, ass to the mattress and her cheek on his thigh.
He slid his fingers through her hair.
It was soft, the curls tangling around his fingers, clinging like they didn’t want him to let go.
“Called Chace,” he started on a whisper and kept going that way. “They’re finishing up what they need to do at your place. It’ll be open tomorrow. Called Max too. He’s sendin’ Bubba over to board up your window and he’s ordering another. It’s custom. It’ll take a while to get in but he’s on that.”
“Okay, Deke.”
She was talking in a whisper too.
Deke went on the same way.
“With the cops done with what they gotta do with the house, we’re goin’ back tomorrow. Callahan is good to get started and I’m gettin’ back to work. You’ll be with me. Callahan can stay with you while I get us sandwiches.”
He felt her snuggling her cheek in his thigh, he didn’t know if that was for closeness or to hide discomfort, before she repeated, “Okay.”
He decided to go with discomfort even if it wasn’t just so he could make sure it wasn’t but get her beyond it if it was.
“You need to get back there, Jussy. It’s your home. Work’s gettin’ done for you to be safe in it. But you will not be alone there and tomorrow night until Callahan has your system done, you’re stayin’ here with me.”
There was a pause and no movement before she said again, “Okay.”
She didn’t argue.
Good.
“Talked to Decker,” Deke carried on. “He’s a busy guy but he’s clearing things, favor for a friend. Means he’s on the job. He’s good, Jussy. He’ll find her.”
She lifted a hand and curled it on his thigh under her nose and gave him a squeeze.
She gave him a squeeze but he could feel the tension all through her.
Deke kept sliding his hand in her hair as he asked, “How do I get you to relax, baby? Close your eyes. Sleep a little.”
“Daddy,” she whispered.
“Say again?”
“My phone, Deke. It’s on your nightstand. Can you pull up my music? Play anything. Anything by my dad.”
Deke reached out, got her phone and he knew what he’d play.
It was on Johnny Lonesome’s album Living Room, one of his last, the album her dad and his band recorded in one go during an acoustic session in that same room in his house.
For years before they recorded one, these sessions had been legendary. Everyone knew that all through his career, his band, who never lost a member until Lonesome died (except the drummer who had left him but only to tour with Jussy when she’d done her thing), would jam in his living room just for the fun of it.
So they decided one day, to the gratitude of their fans, to record a session.
It had been brilliant.
And Lonesome had been performing a certain song for years but that was the first time that song was even close to studio recorded. Deke had never seen the man in concert but he’d heard that song, from that album and well before, on live ones.
And Deke learned from what he’d read a few nights ago that Lonesome played his song “Never Missin’ Home” at every concert.
It had some lines Deke thought he got.
But he didn’t.
Never wanna leave my Justice, my home.
So I bring her with me, my baby Lonesome.
Don’t matter, Justice is always there,
Always right there, no matter where I go.
My baby Lonesome,
Makin’ it so I’m never missin’ home.
He queued up the song, hit play and slipped down into the bed, drawing Jussy up so she was resting on his chest, her face in his throat, Deke’s arms curved around her.
Johnny Lonesome sang about his daughter as she curled deeper into Deke and rubbed her face in his throat.
“Perfect,” she whispered over her father’s voice.
It was. He knew it.
He knew it because in bed with Deke, held close, her father right there with them, it took only three songs and she was out.
Chapter Ten
Catch You
Justice
It was after my nap.
It was also after the girls coming back, cleaning the trailer and stocking the cupboards and fridge. They stayed. We gabbed. Then they left.