Stand By Your Man by Susan Fox Page A

had broken things off, it was obvious she was on his mind.
    â€œThere you go, all mushy faced again,” Jamal ribbed him. As they spoke, he kept an eye on the pool table. The group of students were playing a half-assed game, looking jittery, like they were more interested in scoring drugs.
    â€œDon’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about Karen MacLean.”
    Of course he had.
    Jake gave a wicked grin. “The two of you seemed to be getting on pretty well that night you left Brooke’s so early. Almost makes a guy think . . .”
    â€œDon’t go there. Believe it or not, we sat up all night talking.” He took a sip of his drink, still keeping an eye on the students. No action yet.
    â€œTalking? What did you find to talk about all night?”
    â€œYou know. Her job, my job. Parents, schooling. What she wants out of life. What I want out of life.”
    Jake gaped. “Hell, I’ve known you almost fifteen years and we’ve never talked about that shit.”
    â€œThat’s a woman for you.” No, that was Karen. She’d told him that her mom’s life turned around in five minutes when she met Karen’s dad. Jamal was coming to think that maybe his own life had turned around, talking to Karen that evening.
    â€œYeah, I guess.” A pause. Then, “So, what the hell do you want out of life?”
    The picture that had popped into Jamal’s mind that night was seeming more and more solid. He’d float it by his buddy, see how Jake reacted. “The usual, I guess.” He tried to sound casual. “Good woman, couple of kids. Job I enjoy.” No alcohol; no cravings; no weakness. “House, maybe a dog. Did you know Karen has a German shepherd?”
    â€œWell, hell.” Jake’s tone said that Jamal had given away more than he’d meant to.
    When the other man didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, Jamal had to ask. “You thinking I’m crazy? You can’t see me teaching some little boy or girl how to play basketball?” Staying sober, being in a loving relationship, having a family. Being normal.
    â€œHuh. Yeah, I can.” He sounded surprised. “You’d go for staff sergeant, and it’d really be a desk job?”
    â€œLikely.” This assignment had come at a good time. It helped Jamal test his feelings about undercover work. As much as he enjoyed excitement and challenge, this wasn’t the right job for an alcoholic, nor for a guy who had personal commitments. “Figure priorities gotta change when you hook up with someone special.”
    When this job was done, he’d give Karen a call. See if she’d like to come down to Vancouver and let him buy her a Thai dinner. Or, since she’d have a pile of work cleaning up Miller’s mess, he’d offer to go up to Caribou Crossing.
    The bar door opened and two suspected Black Devils entered. “Action,” he muttered.
    Jake raised his beer glass and flicked them a glance. “So you’re going to see Karen again?”
    One of the pool players made eye contact with one of the gang members.
    â€œThought I might head up that way when we get back. How ’bout you and Brooke?”
    Slowly, Jake shook his head. The light had gone out of his gray eyes. “Don’t see it happening. She’s got a good life going for her. Doesn’t need me.”
    â€œYeah, but do you need her?”
    â€œDon’t need anyone.”
    No, a man shouldn’t need anyone. Jamal didn’t. But that wasn’t really what he was asking. Karen would know the right way to phrase the question, to make Jake dig deeper. Casually, he raised his smartphone, holding it like he was checking texts or scrolling through contacts. Instead, he had its camera at the ready.
    The college kid left the pool table and headed toward the men’s room. Jamal clicked shots as the gang member sauntered down the hallway after him, then put