Free Keeping You: KJ Elite Inc. by L.K. Kracek Page A

pointedly.
    “Conspiratorial much?”
    “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re hiding out at my place because you’re looking out for me. I get it and I appreciate it. But come on Luke, you can’t babysit me forever. At least Peyton is temporary and getting ready to move into his house any day now. I’m doing alright and you need your own space. Don’t get me wrong, you’re always welcome when you need a place to stay, but it’s time to get the fuck out. We lived in the same house for 18 years, let’s not have a repeat of how it ended between Mike and me, okay?”
    “I promise I won’t sleep with Mike’s girlfriend, okay?”
    I laughed and finished my set.
    “What girlfriend? The Viking King hasn’t hooked up in almost a year.”
    “Duh, Candace.”
    I scoffed but argued. “Yeah, like Candace would give you a half a look. Plus, she’s way too good for Gigantor.”
    “Whatever pretty boy.”
    We continued to work-out in silence and after another two hours, I was completely drenched. Aching and exhausted, I pulled some “swishy” pants on over my shorts and made my way home. By way of running.
    I never said I was smart.
    There wasn’t a bone in my body, a molecule that didn’t crave Jamie’s presence, but I needed to sit in silence for a bit to reclaim my head. Fighting demons wasn’t something I needed to add to her plate. Especially because she had enough of her own, already.
    My house was so empty, so quiet. It was my solitude. My own personal prison on some days.
    I had a two story farm house with wrap around porch, complete basement, full attic and separate two car garage. It was painted indigo blue with partial stone siding and stark white shutters. Nothing fancy in my opinion, but it was home.
    Walking up the three steps and across the porch to the front door I thanked God every time for the blessings in my life and the home that many of my brothers and sisters did not have.
    Homeless veterans was a growing pandemic and it broke me to know that there wasn’t a lot I could do. While my savings was substantial enough to retire today and live off of comfortably for the rest of my life, I donated more than half of my income to projects and charities that dealt with housing and feeding homeless veterans.
    Our little slice of somethin’ out here in Tennessee wasn’t big enough to change the world, but when our soldiers came home, they always had a home and hot meals on their table. All of us advocated for our Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Airmen and Coastie’s living with PTSD. One brother who lost the fight was one too many. We volunteered time and money to fight against the decline of home and health in our veterans’ lives, no matter their age or affiliations. It was infuriating how easily we could fix the problems of homelessness if every wealthy person donated a house or a small slice of their wealth to building a home. There were people out there, willing to build for free if only they had a donor. It is an ongoing fight that hopefully is won one day. Soon.
    I’ve just gotten word from Luke that one of my sister’s came home to an eviction notice after her step-brother who was supposed to be watching after her stuff, drained her accounts, sold all of her stuff, ran up all her credit cards in a matter of one day and disappeared. That shit was going to be dealt with and real soon; it has now been added to top priority, right after or maybe alongside of Jamie. Maybe I wouldn’t be so livid if it didn’t involve her coming home to fight the state for the rights to her daughter back. That was an outrageous and incredibly long story that thank fuck ends in her getting her daughter back in one piece, quickly. Luke may have had something to do with that, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter since it ended the way it did.
    I walk in, kicking off my boots in my “mudroom” as ma called it and savored the feel of bare feet on cold hardwood floors. Luke kept turning the A/C up to Alaska so the