Before Siena could react to Dave calling her a bitch, Cooper came forward. “Hey, Siena. Everything good?”
They both turned and gaped at him. Siena went so pale her makeup stood out on her cheeks.
“You know her?” Dave asked, with the same tone he’d use if he were asking if Cooper had taken a shit on the floor.
“Next-door neighbor,” he answered, keeping his eyes on Siena, who was the loose cannon here. She was looking at him, too, with an expression he guessed—he only felt confident enough to call it a guess—was some blend of anger, weariness, surprise, and ... panic?
“My condolences,” Dave said, and she whipped around to glare at him.
“Fuck you both. Assholes,” she gritted out, then spun on the high heel of her shiny, thigh-high boot and stomped to the door and through it.
What Cooper should have done, he knew, was let the matter drop right there. He hadn’t invited her here, she’d come on her own business, that business had concluded—without gunfire or bloodshed, huzzah—and she’d left. It was not his place to intervene further, and he had ample evidence to know she wouldn’t be glad of him butting into her shit.
But something about the scene was pinging his conscience. She’d come in for self-defense training. A woman who was already handy—and free—with a gun felt like she needed martial arts, too? Also, she was upset. Shaking with it.
Had something happened to her?
“Don’t lock me out,” he said and hurried to the front door.
As soon as he hit the sidewalk, he remembered that he was barefoot and dressed only in zuban. Basically pajama bottoms. Winter in Laughlin was far milder than winter in Tulsa, but here after nine at night, it was pretty brisk.
Siena was in her car, which was parked across the lot, facing the entrance to this strip mall. She was trying, and failing, to start it. By the time he reached her, he’d heard enough to know her fuel filter was clogged.
Just as he came up to the rear fender, she gave up and started banging on the steering wheel and shouting incoherently. Full-on chick meltdown. So he stopped shy of the driver’s door and rapped on window, ready to hit the deck if she came out shooting.
His knock startled her, and she whipped around, looking almost guilty, but she did not have a pink gun in her hand, and he considered that a win.
She glared at him, and he stood where he was, putting on a smile he hoped wasn’t too flirty or smug or anything but helpful.
She tried to put her window down, failed, grabbed the steering wheel hard for a second and shook with rage, then turned the key so the window would work and brought it down about three inches.
“What do you want, Cooper.” There was no rise at the end of the sentence to make it sound like a question. Like she was so tired she couldn’t even lift her voice.
“I want to know if you’re okay.”
“Why do you give a fuck.”
That very question was blaring in the back of his head from a loudspeaker. The best answer he had was, “Because I’m a way better person than you think I am.” When her only response was a defeated scoff, Cooper added, “Did something happen, Siena?”
“You want a list?”
“If you want to give me one.”
Her brow furrowed, and she stared hard at him, trying to figure him out.Join the club, baby, he thought.
She clearly didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, and he couldn’t blame her. Who was he to shove his nose in where she didn’t want him? Also, he was cold, so they needed to put an end to whatever this was. Why had he come out here?
A thought occurred to him, and while it was alarming in some respects, it also seemed to fit his head right, so he didn’t overanalyze it. “I could teach you some self-defense moves.”
The offer clearly surprised her. Her frown deepened, and she took him in fully, her eyes traveling from his face, down his bare chest, to the black zuban, to his bare feet. “You do ... karate, I guess?”
“Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Less kicking and chopping, more grappling and hold-breaking. There’s lots of good self-defense shit.”
“Are you good?”
Was she taking the offer seriously? Wow. “Black belt. Third degree.” It should be higher, he’d been holding at third degree for years, but he didn’t have the time to train. His life had gotten damn complicated when he’d put the Bull on his back.
She was quiet for a long time. She turned away and stared at the steering wheel, and Cooper thought she meant to try to start her car and drive off. But then she turned back. “How much would you charge?”