Wally rubs his chin and is silent for a few seconds. “Terri.”
“Point made.” Carlos straightens, knowing full well he just ruined his buddy’s entire day. “You got a helluva blow job from a dude, my man.”
“I’m not gay,” Wally blurts out like he needs to justify something, which he doesn’t.
“No one said you were, dumbass. But there was a reason Cupcake was the cheapest hooker on the block.” Carlos is pretty satisfied with himself and does nothing to hide his glee at Wally’s agony.
“Well, fuck,” Wally whispers, finally coming to the realization that his bargain-basement BJ wasn’t as amazing a deal as he originally thought.
Johnny strolls through the front door, flanked by two bodyguards. “You see the fucking joint next door?” He ticks his chin toward his men before they shuffle into the booth nearest the door, watching for any trouble.
“How’s the arm?” I dip my head toward the sling around his chest and the cast still covering the lower half of his arm. The bullet shattered his radius and ulna into a million little pieces, leaving him pretty fucked up but lucky they didn’t have to amputate.
“Still fucked.” Johnny shrugs before taking the seat next to Carlos. “But I’m upright and alive.”
“Lucky fucker,” Wally mutters behind his beer glass.
“They ever catch the hooligans that did that?” Carlos asks Johnny but doesn’t look at him.
“Stupid shits picked the wrong guy to carjack. They caught them because I popped one of them in the ass as they tried to run away.” Johnny laughs, grabbing the beer from my hands before I have a chance to set it down. “Funniest shit I’ve ever seen.”
I stare at the three of them, all single, all sitting at a bar in the middle of the day with no woman waiting for them at home.
One day, if I’m not careful, it’ll be me sitting on that barstool talking shit. I’m sure the kids will visit their old man from time to time, but I’ll have nothing to sustain me from day to day.
“Back to the joint next door.” Johnny wipes away the foam clinging to his mustache. “Did you get a good look at the piece of ass working in there?”
Part of me loves these guys, but they’re way beyond old-school and so crass when it comes to women that sometimes I have to restrain myself from punching them in the face. If there were other customers here at this time of day, I’d shut their shit down. They know it too. But since the bar is empty, I let them have their say with only the occasional glare.
“She’s a sweet little thing.” Wally licks his lips like the creep he is.
“You two are sick fucks. She could be your daughter for Christ’s sake,” Carlos tells them, as if he’s not a pervert just like they are, which is laughable.
“I have a son.” Johnny smirks. “No hair off my balls.”
I throw the dish towel over my shoulder and lean against the bar. “You guys better start being a little more respectful to women. If Daphne were here…”
“Don’t tell her.” Wally’s eyes widen as he waves his hands in front of him. “She’d kick me right in the balls.”
“I’d pay money to see that.” Carlos laughs.
There’s a loud noise like a bomb’s gone off nearby. Johnny’s men are on their feet, surveying the outside, looking for any imminent threat to his life.
“Street’s clear, boss,” the thick-necked guy in the black suit says as he stands near the door.
“What the fuck?” Carlos clutches his chest as the color starts to return to his face. “I thought I was dying.”
“I almost shit myself.” Wally laughs and shakes his head.
“And that’s different how?” Carlos teases Wally.
Whatever happened, it can’t be anything good. The brick between our two businesses is thick and helps as a sound barrier.
“Stay here.” I throw the towel on the bar. “Watch the place for me while I check it out.”
“Take Maurice with you,” Johnny says over his shoulder before I can make it to the front door.
I stop, turn around, and put my hands up to stop the two lugs from following me. “No. I got this.”
