When I stop by the table, Fury looks over and lifts his chin, eyeing Beast who is lining up a shot on the eight ball to win the game.
Just for funsies, and because he needs to lighten the fuck up and deal with his shit, I move into his line of sight and shout ‘hey’ as he takes the shot.
Jokes on me, the fucker still slots it into the center pocket without breaking concentration.
“Appreciate the lame ass attempt at an assist,” Fury smirks.
“You think I didn’t see you the second you walked in the door?” Beast straightens and sets his cue on the felt while Fury starts collecting theballs to wrack them up again. “Who sent you? This asshole said he came off his own back.”
“Raven sent me,” I shrug, not wanting to lie about it. “You know the woman who has taken in your daughter.”
Beast flinches as he picks up the beer behind him on the shelf, he takes a few long gulps without saying anything. Fury is setting up the balls in the triangle behind me.
“I’ve already had the third degree from him and Nero.”
“And still it’s not sinking in?”
“You don’t get it.”
“Of course I don’t. I’m not even going to pretend I do. Doesn’t mean you’re doing the right thing running away from it. Raven’s patience won’t last much longer, then what will happen to her?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“It?”
Fury smirks at me. Yeah okay, fucker has probably already said all of this to him and he’s still here in this bar, playing pool, drinking watered down beer and listening to late seventies heavy metal.
“Shit,” he puts the beer down and turns to face us both. “Who am I beating next?”
“No one. You’re lucky it’s us who showed up and not Nero.”
“Or Raven,” Fury laughs.
“Which will happen if you don’t get your shit together,” I point out, taking a cue from the stand on the wall. “And no one wants to see her pissed enough to come looking for one of us. That will only rile up Rebel and then Nero will get involved.”
“I get it, fuck off,” Beast grabs the cue off the table and bends over.
“Hey, my break.”
“Get fucked.”
He hits the cue ball so hard two of the balls bounce off the table.
“Not it,” I cross my ankles and watch the balls rolling in different directions.
Beast drops the stick on the table and walks away. Not to pick up the balls, for the door.
“Good job,” Furylaughs.
“He needs to get his head out of his ass. Razer is in Romney tracking down Storm, he could call us down there at any time. Nero is not going to want to deal with this.”
“I’ve told him all of that,” he shrugs.
Shaking my head, I walk out of the bar after Beast and find him hunched over his bike. Fury doesn’t follow so I head over and lean against the wall by where Beast is breathing heavily.
“Don’t have a fucking heart attack on me,” I mutter.
There is no quip back, enough that my heart thumps a little but Beast straightens up and looks out across the parking lot.
