Page 25 of Between Brothers

“Fuck. I didn’t realize we were in the Middle Ages and I needed to ask for her father’s hand.”

Preach abruptly looked away and drained his beer. He sat it on the table and stood, mumbling something I didn’t catch.

“Right. So, she ain’t never to be kissed. Got it.”

“You keep your nasty, little dick skinners off her, or I swear to fuck. King–”

“Leave us.” Forty calmly bid, pulling Preach’s seat out and picking up the abandoned bottle. “If we could not leave these lingering in wait when tempers are flaring, ladies.”

Roach scurried to him and fetched the bottle with an apologetic smile. Before she could scamper back to the bar with Rigs, he hooked her by the waist and hauled her to his lap.

She settled with a surprised, bashful smile, folding her legs one over the other, and hooking her arm delicately around his shoulder.

Forty didn’t say anything for a minute, he just teased his finger along Roach’s knee and down the contour of her shin, “You know, I never noticed how nice and shapely those legs of yours are, honey.”

I snorted, unable to help myself, even if I was sitting there grinding the heel of my hand over my knee in an effort to chase away the deep ache and stem the bleeding.

It hurt like a bitch, but I tried not to show it.

“You think so?” She held one out for him to admire, and he ran his hand over it with a throaty sound of appreciation. “Nicest ones I’ve seen in a while. Get up here.”

He tapped the table and she softly giggled, before daintily edging her ass onto the edge.

Forty’s warm laughter caused her to freeze and wobble awkwardly, “Up with you. Go on then.”

She hesitantly rose and he winked at her, “Atta girl. Now dance for me.”

She nervously glanced between us and the contents of the table.

“He doesn’t exist. Me and you are the only ones that matter here.” Forty assured her.

Someone adjusted the volume of the jukebox, and she nervously began to move. She wasn’t any good at it, and I’d have probably gotten a good kick out of the sight, if I wasn’t still trying to decide if he’d insulted me on purpose or not.

When his gaze finally landed on me, and I saw the amusement in their depths, I knew he had.

“You see how easy you don’t exist. I simply say the word– And you’re a figment of everyone’s imagination, King. A weak memory from back when that people will eventually stop talking about.”

“Forty, I didn’t–” I tried to choose my words wisely, which wasn’t easy. I was gripping the table so hard my knuckles were losing color.

Probably because I wanted to flip the damn thing into his lap and see how far I got before D-man got to me.

“Mean it? Oh, I know. I see how serious you are about pussy on the regular.” He shrugged, and glanced up to Roach, growing quiet while he admired her momentarily. “I didn’t hold it against you, either… I never gave a good damn which one you dumped your load in and disposed of. Until my daughter became another piece of ass on your radar.”

His hand teased up the back of Roach’s ankle and widened around her calf, only to start back down the path when he reached her knee.

“Your glory run is at its end, because if you embarrass or hurt my daughter…” He paused only a breath when my father entered the tavern, raising his tone until it was clear he didn’t give a fuck who heard his parting words, “I’ll take more than your goddamn patch.”

Roach’s calf stiffened into a tense ball that popped a little more, when Forty slapped the table and announced, “Good talk, son.”

Roach gave a little squeak when he snagged her by the waist and tossed her caveman style over his shoulder.

“Good show, too,” he murmured, rubbing her ass as he headed toward his office with his prize.

My ol’ man slunk into the chair opposite of me, unable to take his eyes off Forty.

Meanwhile, I stared at the coward before me, my decision made.

He didn’t have the balls to lead us.