Oh boy.

“Perhaps you aren’t going to be able to be very objective during the discussion,” I suggested.

“You bet yo’ ass I won’t be objective,” she agreed then continued. “I’ll see you at five twenty, what do you drink?”

“Um… cosmos.”

“I’m all over that,” she declared then ordered, “Call your girls and see you later.”

Then she gave me dead air.

Hmm. I was uncertain how that went. What I was certain about was that Elvira was going to be there at five twenty.

I called Cam and Tracy, found that they both could make a five twenty come to a meeting of the minds about Cabe “Hawk” Delgado. I gave them directions to the lair and a head’s up about the Elvira addition and then I sipped more coffee.

Then, because I could be a girlie idiot, I flipped my phone open just to see Hawk’s numbers on my contact list. As I was scrolling down, the bar highlighted “Ginger”.

I stared at my sister’s name. Then I thought about the fact that the best case scenario was my sister going into the witness protection program and I avoided any thoughts of the worst case scenario because they threatened to give me hives.

Then I got a wild hair, hit go and put it to my ear.

“What?” she answered.

Holy crap. She answered!

“Ginger? It’s Gwen.”

“I know, bitch.”

Okay, maybe I didn’t care that my sister might disappear into the witness protection program.

The problem was, I cared about the possible worst case scenarios.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“What do you care?”

“Ginger –”

“Listen, got shit to do. Don’t waste my time callin’ and pretended you give a shit, okay?”

“I do give a shit,” I replied.

“Right.”

Sarcasm.

Welp, guess that meant that Ginger’s serious trouble didn’t make Ginger reflect on her way of life and familial relationships. Why was I not surprised?

“Yes, right Ginger. Listen to me, I know we’re never going to be tight, you don’t drink cosmos and I don’t do acid trips, but you’re my sister, I’ve been living a taste of your problems and I’m worried. You might not believe me but that’s the real deal. I’m worried, Dad’s worried and Meredith is worried.”

“None of you were worried the other night when I needed a fuckin’ shower,” she retorted.

“That was before the firebombs and drive-bys.”

Silence.

“Maybe I can do something for you,” I offered softly into the silence.

“Oh yeah, right, now you’re willin’ to do somethin’ for me. All these years, you treat me like a piece of shit. Your livin’ room gets blown to shit, you wake up. Is that it?”

“All these years I didn’t treat you like a piece of shit,” I denied and I did this because it was damn well true.

“Unh-hunh.” More sarcasm.

Now I was getting mad.

“Unh-hunh,” I repeated. “I don’t know what it is with you but if you have time to process this, we will. See, I didn’t cut the hair off your Barbies. I didn’t steal your shit to buy drugs. I didn’t put my hand down your boyfriends’ pants. And I didn’t fuck your husband.”

“I knew you’d eventually throw that in my face,” she returned.

Was she for real?

“You fucked my husband!” I yelled.

“Yeah, Gwen, and then you got shot of his ass. You never shoulda hooked up with that dickface in the first place. Now you’re shacked up with Hawk fuckin’ Delgado, of all fuckin’ people, you should be kissin’ my fuckin’ feet.”

This point had merit.

“I knew you did that for me,” I said quietly.

“Someone had to wake your shit up.”

Oh. My. God.

Was that sisterly love I was feeling for Ginger? I couldn’t quite tell since I hadn’t felt it for what seemed like centuries.

“Ginger, honey, please listen to me –”

“No. I don’t know what Conan told you but you have no idea what’s goin’ down with me. What I know is perfect, sweet Gwennie doesn’t have the tools to help me sort this shit out. No one does. Not even Conan. I’m in this alone and I don’t give a fuck. I’ve always been in it alone.”

“Maybe if you’d accept a little help –”

“Fuck you, Gwen. You don’t want to help me. You want the drive-bys to stop.”

“Yes, I do. Definitely,” I agreed. “But I also don’t want my sister to be out there on her own against multiple bad guys when maybe I can help.”

“There is no help for this.”

“Ginger –”

“Don’t fuckin’ call back, Gwen. Ever. Yeah?”

More dead air.

I flipped my phone shut on a hissed, “Shit!”

Then it rang instantly and I flipped it back open, thinking it was Ginger and put it to my ear.

“Ginger?”

“No,” I heard, “Troy.”

Oh shit.

“Troy,” I said quietly.

“Yeah, remember me?”

Uh-oh.

“Troy, I –”

“Got your house shot up. I called four times, no call back. Heard you were okay from Tracy. You call when your bathroom faucet doesn’t shut off but you don’t call when I’m worried out of my mind, I hear your living room’s been shot to shit?”

“Things have been a little crazy.”

“Gwen, you got your house shot up in a drive-by,” he returned. “I know things are crazy but too crazy to call your fucking friend and let him know you’re all right?”

“Mom came by yesterday,” I informed him. “I was a little out of sorts.”

“I can see Meredith would be freaked about –”

“No, Troy, not Meredith, Mom.”

Silence.

I took in a deep breath. “Hawk hurt you and I’m sorry about that. He’s… um… well… whatever. That’s the way he is. I didn’t know what to say to you so –”

“You didn’t know what to say to me because you’ve been hiding a relationship from me for a year and a half. And, like a chump, you’re on the town with Rambo and I’m working in your kitchen and on your house all that time.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I declared and it wasn’t. I just had no intention of telling him what it was like.

“Bullshit. It was just like that. So I figure I deserve an explanation of why you’d play me for a chump, Gwen.”

All right, I was getting mad again.

“Actually, Troy, what it was like is none of your business. I didn’t play you for a chump. You’re my friend. When you need something, you call on your friends.”

“Yeah, you have no problem doing that.”

“And you don’t either,” I shot back. “Wasn’t it me you called when you got that terrible flu and I took you to the doctor and I took you home and I made sure you had your medicine and enough Kleenex and cleaned out your vomit bowl? News flash, Troy, I do not like vomit, at all. I avoid vomit like I avoid orange-hued lipstick, in other words, at all costs. But I’ll deal with it for a friend.”

“Gwen –”

“And wasn’t it me, when you wanted to impress that girl, that came over and made a three course meal for you to claim as your own when you had her over to your house?”

“I –”

I cut him off and pulled out the big guns.

“And wasn’t it me who dropped everything and flew down to Tucson with you so you could help your Mom arrange to bring your father back up to Denver for his funeral?”

“Honey –”

“This wasn’t a one way street and you know it,” I cut him off again. “I gave as good as I took and it upsets me that you’d say differently. Now, my living room is a disaster, I can’t go home, my parents can’t go home, my sister is in trouble and my mother showed up out of the blue because she heard I hooked myself a man who could afford Jimmy Choos so she wanted to get in there and get… whatever. I haven’t seen her for decades and there she was. I found out she’d always been close but didn’t give a shit to get closer until she thought she could get something out of it. I’m sorry Hawk hurt your feelings and, on top of all this, I’ve been worried that I’d lose you because of it. But I don’t need this shit now, Troy. I need my friends around me and if you aren’t that, I don’t know what to say except it would kill to find that out now after all we’ve been to each other.”

“I’m in love with you, Gwen,” he whispered, no hesitation, he socked it right to me and I sucked in breath and didn’t respond, just stared at my lap experiencing the pain that shot through my heart. “Honey?” he called when I didn’t speak.

“I wish you would have told me,” I whispered back. “But I can’t say what would happen if you did but now… now, I can’t deal with this, Troy. I love you, I think the world of you but I have a man in my life. I don’t know where it’s heading, all I know is that what he makes me feel scares the fucking hell out of me and I need to focus on that.”

“I know why he scares you, honey,” Troy replied gently.

“Why’s that?”

“Because he’s got Scott Leighton written all over him.”

I sucked in an audible breath.

“Troy –”

“You do that. You’ve always done that. The good-looking guys that think their shit doesn’t stink and walk all over you.”

Oh God.

Troy went on. “It hurt enough when Scott wore loafers. How’s it going to feel like when the guy wears combat boots?”

“I’m not sure he’s like that.”

“I met him once, didn’t know him at all and he didn’t hesitate with what he said to me in front of you, Trace and whoever the fuck those guys were. He didn’t give a shit about me. What makes you think, he’s got something to say you don’t like, or he plans to do something that’ll hurt you, he’ll give a shit about you?”

“I think I know him better than you do, Troy, and he’s not like other people. He actually thought he was doing you a favor.”