Page 60 of Badd Love
I'd decided to take a bigger class load and work more just to keep my mind off of Lindsey. It'd been two weeks since coming home from LA, and there'd been nothing from her. Dunc and Rune were back from their honeymoon and were settling into domestic life together, running Badd's Bar. Rune had decided to go all in on the family and was stepping in as an administrative assistant; Delia and Hunter were busier and busier, what with kids and Hunter's empire and the much, much smaller Badd's Bars empire. Delia desperately needed someone to come in and help her with the deeply unsexy administrative work—which apparently was what Rune had been doing and was good at. Plus, it's work she can keep doing while pregnant, and much of it she can do from home after giving birth. Not to mention, we have the world's largest support system, consisting of a half-billion aunts and cousins who are, to a woman, more than a little baby-obsessed, so whenever Rune needs to get work done, all she needs to do is send a text, and she'll have a dozen women clamoring to cuddle and sniff little baby Badd.
What is it with chicks smelling babies, anyway? They just smell like a baby. It's weird.
Speaking of Rune, I've been avoiding going over there…because I’ll ask about Lindsey. I know I need to see Dunc, but I just need some time and space from the whole shitshow, and I know they'll both ask me a shitload of questions, and I just don't know how to deal with it. I'm still pretty raw about the whole fucking fiasco.
I reached my car—a '98 Ford Ranger Dunc, Jax, and Lucas—Aunt Aerie and Uncle Canaan's son, named after theBig Fella himself—helped me fix up. It's not a show pony, it's a daily driver. No lift, no fancy tires, stock radio, crank windows, original engine and transmission—with over a hundred thousand miles—but it runs well, and it's mine. It's baby blue with a white stripe running around the lower edge and cheap steelies on the tires. As I climbed into the cab—I'd replaced the original tattered leather upholstery with saddle blanket upholstery—my phone buzzed with an incoming call.
I checked it as I cranked the engine. "Duncan, I was just thinking about you. What's up, bro?"
"When are you coming over? I feel like you're avoiding me."
"I am."
“Lindsey?”
"Yup."
"I get it. But look, I need some help. We're redoing the keg-room because it's woefully outdated and slow, we need a new pump system, and we have room to add some new taps, so we need to pull everything out and—"
“Yeah, yeah, I don't need the explanation. I get it," I cut in. "I'll be there in a few. I was just on campus nailing down my schedule for next semester."
"Just a fair warning, Rune is gonna wanna talk eventually—there’s no getting away from it forever.”
I groaned. "Why do you think I've been avoiding you guys? I don't want to talk about it."
"I know, I know. Just come help. I’ll feed you beer and wings for your trouble."
"Jerk," I muttered. He knew I was a sucker for beer and wings slathered in mouth-scorching buffalo sauce.
"Gotcha!" he crowed. "So I'll see you in a few?"
"Yeah, I'm on the way. Just tell your dear wife that I'll only have the patience to answer a few questions."
"I'll tell her, but good luck getting my wife to listen. She's determined to get you two through this."
"It's not me she has to convince, bro." I paused. "Also, it's still weird to me that you have a wife."
"Right? I can't stop fidgeting with the ring." I heard distant, muffled voices. "I gotta go. See you when you get here."
When I got there, I parked in the alley and entered through the kitchen, studiously avoiding looking at the spot where Lindsey had been crouched. I followed the noise down into the cellar, where the keg room was. It was chaos. Dad was there neck deep in stacked kegs and a tangle of tap lines, while Uncles Bax, Brock, and Zane all crowded the space, playing musical kegs and cursing at each other. Duncan was sitting on the stairs watching, chin in hand, amused, as the brothers fought exactly the way Dunc and I do—with curses, insults, playful but hard punches and shoving, and a lot of inefficiency.
I sat next to Dunc. "So this looks like it's going well."
"Yeah, they showed up after I called you and took over. they're making a mess and getting nowhere, and I have a plan, but I can't get their OLD, DEAF, STUBBORN ASSES TO FUCKING LISTEN TO ME!" he shouted the last part.
Dad stopped, wiped sweat off his forehead with his wrist, and stared at Dunc over top of a stacked pair of kegs. "I'm not deaf, boy."
"But you are old and stubborn," Bax said.
"Fuck you,” Dad shot back. “If I'm stubborn, I don't think there's a word for what you are."
"A literal saint," Bax answered, making a face I think was meant to look…pious? "A prince among men. A holy man."
Zane doubled over laughing, and Brock joined him. Bax looked around, offended. “Well fuck you all very much."
Zane couldn't breathe for laughing. "A h-holy man! Oh god, good one, bruh."
"Bruh? Bax echoed. "You gonna start saying skibidy next?"
