“Stay the fuck away from me,” Jerry hissed. He was starting to panic.
“I’m sorry I’m here,” I began to explain.
“We’ll laugh about it later,” Brock interrupted. “Right now, let’s talk to Jerry.”
“Don’t you fucking threaten me, man,” Jerry said. He had slid deeper into the booth, and was practically climbing the wall to stay as far from Brock as possible.
“No threat. I’m actually the carrot,” Brock said.
“Carrot?”
“I work here.” Brock gestured to indicate the bar. “And I’m about to give you the deal of a lifetime. You get to drink here for free. Three drink limit per night, but you can come in as often as you want. I’ll arrange it with the other bartenders. Congratulations on your prize.”
“I… I don’t want that,” Jerry replied. “I’ve already given Lila my demands. She agreed to them.”
Brock made a face. “Now, see, that’s the part I don’t like. You’ve blackmailed this nice woman. It doesn’t take a Criminology professor to know that blackmail is illegal. Why don’t you pretend like you never did that illegal thing, and accept free drinks at Frankie’s. I’ll even make it four drinks per night, because I’m such a nice guy.”
Jerry sat up a little straighter. “No. I don’t care about some dirty bar. I don’t even drink much.”
Brock grimaced at me. “Now, I can ignore a lot of things. But I don’t like you insulting my bar. Fortunately, we have a stick to go with my carrot.”
“Stick? Carrot?” Jerry looked back and forth between us. “I don’t understand what these words mean in this context.”
Brock rolled his eyes. “It’s a metaphor. The carrot is the good thing, and the stick is the bad.” He raised his hand over his head and waved again. “And now you get to meet the stick.”
From across the bar, Jace came sauntering over to our booth. Brock moved to the next booth over, and Jace took his seat blocking Jerry in.
“Hello,” he said simply.
“Fuck you,” Jerry replied defiantly.
Jace gave me a look that said:can you believe this kid?
“My name’s Jace Strickland. Formerly known as Sergeant Major Strickland. I was in the Army. That’s why I’m getting my degree so late. Don’t worry, I don’t have any student loans. The G.I. Bill took care of my tuition. I still have to pay for my own books, though, which kind of sucks.”
“What’s happening?” Jerry asked, looking confused.
“When I was in the Army, I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.” Jace was talking to Jerry, but he stared at me as he spoke. “But hey, when you’re on a military base dealing with suspected insurgents, it’s all good. Right?”
“Are—are—are you threatening me?” Jerry stammered.
“No! Of course not. We’re all just talking here.” Jace smiled at me, then twisted in the booth so that he was facing the kid. “Do you know how much force it takes to break a finger bone? The same amount of force it takes to bite through a baby carrot.”He snapped his fingers. “Snap. Just like that. And don’t get me started on how easily toenails pop off.”
“This isn’t going to work,” Jerry said, but his hands were trembling on the table. “I already told her what I want, and if I don’t get it, I’m going public with what I know.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” Jace raised his hand over his head and waved. “Maybe hear what he has to say, first.”
“Who?”
Compared to the large physical presence of Jace and Brock, Cam looked downright harmless by comparison as he walked over to our booth with his laptop under one arm.
I smiled up at him, and he smiled back.
“What are you?” Jerry asked. “Another carrot, or another stick?”
“Neither. I’m a nuclear bomb.” Cam ran a hand through his messy hair, then opened his laptop on the table. “Be careful, or I might detonate right here.”
“Fuck you,” Jerry said, though his voice was shaky.
