“Get your ass inside,” he snarls when a car alarm goes off.
“Is that a fucking chicken?” Dash asks.
“Not a fucking chicken, not even a regular one. It’s a hen.” Nalani smiles.
Someone inside laughs.
“You live with chickens, Nalani?Chickens?” Koa whisper-hisses.
“Hens,” she says as she proceeds to lock one of four deadbolts. “Updated the security system, Paul?”
“If I’d known the blonde was coming back, I wouldn’t have bothered,” a man answers.
“Nice to see you on your ass and not sprawled out on the floor like a starfish, Paul,” Sofie jabs back.
“What?” Nalani asks, pushing through all of us.
“Jesus, kid, tell me this crew is better than the sassy ass,” the man says.
“They, uh, yeah. They’re just gonna crash here tonight.”
“You know one’s bleeding on a diaper, right?” He chuckles and hands her a set of keys
“I do. He, um, got?—”
“Paul, there was a bar fight, and these three can’t go home,” Sofie states. “They were not to blame.”
Holy shit, I think as I look at the cloth and realize it is, in fact, a diaper.
“You got a problem, kid?” he asks.
“No.” Dash runs his hand over his head and chuckles.
“Do I have pizza sauce on my face or something?” The man asks.
“No, sir,” Dash answers.
Sir? I think.
“Then why are you staring at me like you wanna kiss me?”
“I’m staring at you because I think you’re a legend.” Dash says quietly.
“You know, I get that a lot.” He winks then starts to walk away.
“Fuck, I gotta ask.” Dash chuckles. “Are you Paul Bronski?”
I lean to my side to get a look and no shit. It’s Paul Bronksi.
“The guys that roughed you up asking for me?” Paul grabs his walker.
“Jesus, Mr. Bronski, it’s an honor.” I hold out my hand.
“Wait—what am I missing?” Nalani asks Koa.
He lifts his chin. “That’s Paul Bronski, hockey legend.”
“No freaking way? Paul, why are you holding back on us?” Sofie laughs.
