Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

“Oh.” If I get any more deflated, I’ll be a flat tire. “I guess
this is goodbye, then.”
“Guess so.”
I stick out my hand. “It was very interesting to meet you,
Kage.”
He gazes at my hand for a moment, his lips curving into a
smile. Then he takes my hand, chuckling to himself. “You
keep saying that word.”
“It fits.”
“Fair enough. It was interesting to meet you, too, Nat. You
take care of yourself.”
“I will, thanks.”
He pauses for a beat, then says, “Hold on.”
He pulls a pen from an inside pocket of his leather jacket, a
business card from another pocket. Flipping over the card, he
writes something on the back, then hands it to me.
“My number. Just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case of anything. In case your roof leaks. In case your
car breaks down. In case Deputy Dipshit tries to kiss you again
and needs his ass beat.”
Trying not to smile, I say, “You can handle a leaky roof,
huh?”
“I can handle anything.”
He’s very serious when he says that, serious and a little
melancholy, as if his strength is a burden he bears.
I get the strange feeling that his life hasn’t been an easy
one. And also that he’s resigned himself to the fact that it
never will be.
Or maybe that’s just my hormones, on the fritz from his
proximity.
He turns and starts to walk away, but stops when I blurt,
“Wait!”