Fusion by Nicole Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

that mouth of his‌—‌it was about nothing personal. Sports, the weather, foods he couldn’t wait to eat when he got out‌—‌that kind of thing. This was the first time he’d ever been the initiator of anything of a personal quality.
    “Yeah,” I answered, continuing to stir the slop so it didn’t burn on the bottom. However, burnt might at least add a little flavor, so I stopped stirring. “I’ve got a girl on the other side.”
    “She pretty?” he asked, scooping what looked to be month old coleslaw into portion cups.
    “Yeah,” I understated, not comfortable unleashing just how beautiful she was to the likes of Mr. Rogers. “She’s pretty.”
    “She a good girl? Stay out of trouble? Go to school? That kind of thing?”
    I tried to contain my bewilderment that Mr. Rogers and I were having an honest to goodness conversation.
    “Yes, yes, and yes,” I said, leaning into the counter across from him. The coleslaw smelled month old too.
    I took a step back.
    “Then what’s she doing with a son of a bitch like you?” he asked, flashing his toothy grin at me.
    “That’s an unsolved mystery,” I said. “And I hope it stays that way.”
    He nodded. “Hoping to marry her?”
    “Hoping. Praying. Meditating. You name it, and I’m doing it.”
    He nodded again, tossing the ice cream scooper into the vat of coleslaw. It made the second most disgusting sound I’d ever heard. The first was Nathanial’s farts after he’d eaten sauerkraut. “I know the feeling.”
    I paused, wanting to keep the conversation rolling, but not sure how it’d go over. Mr. Rogers wasn’t exactly the open book kind of guy.
    In the end, I decided to go with what I did best: plow on through. “Do you have a girl waiting for you?”
    Since I knew he’d already served quite a few years and had at least a few more to go, and the fact I doubted a damn golden retriever would be excited to see him, I doubted not.
    “Yep,” he answered, smacking his mouth.
    This surprised me. So I had to continue on with the questions. “You two married?”
    “Sure are.”
    Another, even bigger surprise. “She must live far away,” I guessed.
    “No, she’s close,” he said, staring into the mound of coleslaw. “Just a few minutes from here, actually.”
    “Does she ever come visit?” I continued, smelling the burn of the slop behind me. It was an improvement on what it’d smelt like before. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her.”
    “Nah, she doesn’t visit,” he said.
    “Why not?” I asked before thinking if I should. It wasn’t the friendliest of questions.
    “Because she’s dead,” he answered, those cloudy brown eyes meeting mine. “She’s buried in the cemetery just a couple miles down the road from here.”
    And now I wished I took my internal warning and shut the hell up a few questions ago.
    “Damn. I’m sorry, man,” I said, shaking my head and wandering back to my slop-slash-soup. Burnt was one thing. Charred was another.
    He waved his hand. “It was a long time ago. And I’ve mostly gotten over it,” he said, going back to portioning the coleslaw. “It helps I got my revenge.”
    Don’t say anything. Pretend like you missed that last part. My mouth opened‌—‌nope, I wasn’t going to heed my own warnings. “Your revenge?”
    Pausing, Mr. Rogers stared at the wall off to the side. “My wife was raped and murdered over ten years ago.”
    My stomach clenched. The story, combined with the smells, was only making it worse.
    “The cops took the report, gathered their evidence, but me and Annie didn’t exactly live on Magnolia Lane. Our stations in life and our double wide on a half-acre of scab land wasn’t exactly the kind of circumstance good, upstanding taxpayers wanted to waste their tax money on,” he continued, glaring at the wall. I was half certain it was going to burst into flames if he didn’t turn his gaze somewhere else.
    “The cops dropped the case after giving me some dog and pony