Free Untrained Eye by Jody Klaire Page B

Aeron could count on for impartial advice yet never crossed over
boundaries.
    The door to the bar opened sending a blast of wind at Renee and
she nodded to herself in agreement. From now on she was a commander, a
professional.
    “Hey, Renee, don’t look now but you got a mountain heading in your
direction.”
    At Fitzpatrick’s weird announcement, Renee peeked over at the
door.
    Aeron.
    Aeron in a biker jacket and jeans. Her hair swept out of her face.
A twinkle in her eyes, and a v-necked white t-shirt showing off every muscle
she had.
    Renee’s heart did some odd happy dance. She groaned and thunked
her head to the table.
    Professional, right.
    Good luck with that.
     
    SEEING RENEE SMACK her head on the table, I hurried over to her.
She was dressed up in a military skirt suit, the jacket draped over the edge of
the booth and her shirt rolled up to the elbows. She wasn’t impeccable like
always and she looked . . . well . . . kinda inebriated.
    “You okay, you need me to get you somethin’?” I sat opposite her,
wondering why she’d needed to drown herself in—I picked up the glass and
smelled it—tequila or near it.
    Renee shook her head, which succeeded in making her roll her head
around on the surface. Her blonde hair draped into whatever goop covered the
table top.
    “You eaten?” Maybe if I got some food inside her she would sober
up a bit.
    “Black doesn’t need food,” Fitzpatrick slurred at me as he stood
next to the booth, wobbling. He wore a suit, unlike Renee. Some folks on the
base didn’t wear uniforms. I never got why. “She’s got a date with Jack.” He
shook a whiskey glass.
    “No, she ain’t.” I got up and went around to her. She looked
green. I weren’t a fan of folks drinking. Usually, being around them made me
feel a bit wobbly too. “Renee, you eaten?”
    She picked her head up with her hands to peer up at me, a bar mat
stuck to her cheek. “This morning count?”
    I pulled her sleeve up and checked her watch. “It’s half past
eight.” Trying my best not to glare, I focused on Fitzpatrick. “When did you
start drinking?”
    He grinned and downed his glass. He had spilled I didn’t know what
down the front of his shirt. “Liquid lunch.”
    Great.
    “Well, you’ve had enough.” I hoisted Renee up into my arms and
flicked her jacket over her. No way was she gonna be able to walk. “We’re gonna
get some food in you and water . . .” The wave of alcohol hit me as she clung
on. The woman had drunk half of the Mississippi I swore.
    “Nan says hi,” she slurred into my shoulder as I carried her out
into the cool air. “You’re trouble, Lorelei.”
    “That’s what she says, huh?” I doubted Renee had seen anything.
One, she couldn’t and two, she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
    “Yup. Did you know your Nan was your great-grandma?” She nodded
when I looked down at her. “She ran off . . . like Lilia.”
    I didn’t know that. I mean, I hadn’t even known if Nan was related
to me at all until she’d said so in a letter. “Where’d she go?”
    “Nan doesn’t know. She said I need to grow up.”
    Either I wasn’t getting it or Renee was talking drunk. I went with
the latter as she didn’t have the ability to see nothing. Before she met me,
she didn’t think folks could either. If you didn’t count my mother.
    “’Cause you can’t stand?”
    Renee nodded, her cheek still had pieces of mat stuck to it. “And
I’m thirty-five. Grown-ups do not get hammered, do you know that?”
    “Sometimes they do but for a reason, or if they got a problem.”
Renee didn’t have a problem, I knew that much. I hadn’t ever seen her drink
more than a glass come to think of it.
    “The reason is that I’m thirty-five.” She lolled her head back
against my arm. Her jacket slid and I caught it before it dropped onto the
ground. 
    “I got that but why does that particular age make you drink?”
    She grinned up at me. She tried to tuck my hair behind my ear