“Some lights on the porch railing,” he says, as if it should be obvious.
He stops to check his phone and grins. Not his usual demented smile designed to make people piss their pants. The genuine one he reserves for those he trusts and actually gives a shit about. It’s the only reason I don’t hassle him for fucking around on his phone instead of helping me finish the stupid decorations he insisted on scattering around my front yard.
“It’s Jezzie,” he says, correctly recognizing my annoyance that he’s on his phone. He knows I’d never hassle him for talking to his little sister.
“What’s she up to?” The girl’s been through a lot, and I like hearing that she’s doing well.
He turns the screen my way. “Halloween costumes. She’s embracing her demonic, witchy side,” he says with all the pride of a papa bear serial killer.
Under the heavy skeleton-witch makeup, the woman on the screen bears a vague resemblance to the girl I remember.
“She do that herself?” I ask.
Jiggy nods and takes his phone back, tapping out a reply. “She’s so good with all that shit.”
“Am I the only one who doesn’t give a crap about Halloween?”
“No. Rock, Wrath, Teller, Grinder, and the other members of Dad alley were equallyunenthused.”
“That’s not true. Grinder seemed interested…well, as interested as he gets in anything besides Serena.”
Jiggy chuckles. “Those two warm my cold, black heart.” He slides his hand in front of his face. “On the surface, they don’t seem like they belong together but they’re perfect for each other.”
“You feeling okay?” I make a show of pressing the back of my hand to his forehead.
“What?” He shrugs and slaps my hand away. “They’ve both had it rough, so what if I want to see them happy?”
Now I feel like a jackass. “Nah, you’re right.”
“Well, fuck me sideways.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out an imaginary notepad and pen. “Hang on, let me jot this down. ‘Dear diary, today Rooster admitted I’m right about something.’”
“Hilarious.” I stare at him. “You planning to finish this project or fuck around all day?”
He taps his chin like a jackass contemplating the meaning of life. “Are you sure you’re about to turn thirty and not fifty?”
“Keep digging that grave, brother.” I toss a bundle of outdoor extension cords at his midsection. “I’m gonna shove you in it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” His gaze slides toward the house. “Tell me the truth, did Shelby like it?”
“Once she got over the shock.” I glance at the centerpiece of this Halloween wonderland—the ten-foot skeleton riding the flamingo. “It’s pretty cool, brother. Thanks for thinking of it.” It sure as fuck would never have occurred to me to do this to my lawn.
“Oh! She’s going to love these.” He yanks out a string of lights with little dancing skeletons dangling from them. “They’re for inside, though.”
“You’re welcome to hang them in your place.”
He pulls out his phone again, checks the message, then stares into space for a second.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Yeah. Jezzie says she wants to maybe move to New York and finish school up here.”
“That’d be good. Easier to keep an eye on her. Fuck knows there are plenty of colleges in and around Empire.”
“I’d like having her closer,” he mutters. “I think.”
He finishes another text and puts his phone away. “I’ll just need to keep the single brothers and the support club away from her, that’s all.”
I choke on a laugh. “Cool story. Good luck with that.”