The Closer You Get Read Free

but the distant approach of sirens saved him the trouble.  
    Adam knelt next to the drunk guy. “They’re coming, dude. Just hang in there.”
    “Bastard’s lucky I don’t add some more injuries before they get here. Nearly killed us both.”
    Adam smiled up at him. Cash looked away. He was in danger of thinking this guy was for real.
    The ambulance came, and then the police. While the drunk guy was being put on a gurney, Adam and Cash were giving their information to the police. A tow truck showed up to pick up Adam’s car.
    He would need a ride.  
    The tow truck driver would give him a ride. But still, maybe Cash should offer.  
    When the police thanked him, Cash turned and started walking toward his truck. The idea warred within him until he finally stopped at the edge of the highway and turned back. Adam was looking sadly at his pounded up car.  
    “You need a ride?” Cash called to him.
    Adam’s face lit in a smile. “Yeah. Hey, thanks, man. That would be great.”
    He jogged up to meet him, and they walked side-by-side across the highway to Cash’s truck. They followed the tow truck the rest of the way into Fidelity. Cash glanced at his passenger, struck with the incongruity of Adam’s fancy suit and slicked back hair inside Cash’s beat-up pickup with the torn vinyl seats and the crumpled soda cans on the floor.  
    A couple miles down the road, Adam relaxed, and it occurred to Cash that some of Adam’s brightness and cheer might have been nerves. Not that he didn’t seem still cheerful. Just calmer.
    “So, Cash,” he said, “I gotta ask because I’ve been wrong before. You’re not straight, are you?”
    He said it almost hopefully. Cash suppressed a grin. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the man. He was grateful to be hiding behind dark sunglasses. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”
    “That’s fantastic news.”
    “I don’t see how. You’re not my type.”
    “Aw, I’ll grow on you. Here,” he said, reaching in his pocket for a card. He handed it to Cash. “My cell number is on there.”
    Cash took it, glanced at it, and slipped it in his shirt pocket. “You don’t even know where I’m moving to.”
    “You must be moving here. To Fidelity.”
    Cash laughed. “Why? Why must I?”
    “Well, because I always get what I want, that’s why.”
    “Jesus Christ. You really lay it on thick, don’t you?”
    Adam chuckled. “I’m not timid if that’s what you mean.”
    Cash stared hard at the road, trying to keep his face expressionless. “I’m not looking for anything right now,” he said.
    “Sure, I understand. No pressure. But you get settled in here and then call that number. I’ll buy you a beer sometime. If you don’t like me, no big deal. You can always use more friends, right?”
    Cash glanced at him. They had arrived at the garage, and he pulled into the parking lot. “You want me to wait?”
    “Nah, I’ll get a rental. Thanks for the ride.” Adam started to climb out. He stopped and looked back. “I’m sorry you and your truck got banged up, but it was really great meeting you, Cash.”  
    And then he was gone. Cash watched him for a moment. Adam waved at a woman who was passing by him on her way out. She smiled and waved back. Cash wondered how, in a town this small, Adam managed to keep such a positive demeanor and such confidence. He didn’t swagger, but he held himself like a man who’d never been beat down by life. A man who always got what he wanted.  
    Cash shook his head and put his truck in reverse. He drove to the new home he’d be sharing with his brother.

CHAPTER TWO

    T HE B RICK O VEN was located right on Main Street. Rye and Cash were led there by their noses Friday at dinner time. Unpacking was exhausting work, and their appetites testified to the fact. They took a walk down Main in hopes of stumbling across a pub or burger joint, but the smell of bread stopped them. They turned and saw, displayed in the window of the restaurant, loaves