Page 7 of Battle Scars

FUCKED UP SOUP SANDWICH

Gabe

Ransom Falls, Texas

Iflip the file closed and drop my face into my palms. What the fuck am I doing? Am I really going to drop everything and go babysit some spoiled rich girl in San Diego?

I let out a groan because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

A knock sounds on my office door and I call out, “Enter.”

The door cracks open, and Manny pokes his head in. “How’s it going, boss?”

“This is a fucked-up soup sandwich,” I answer.

“Now you know why Papa Racecar wants only the best for his baby girl,” he says.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “What I don't get is why he never told her that she’s in danger.”

“It’s hard to be honest with the ones we love the most,” he says thoughtfully.

“So what did you need?” I change the subject because the way my best friend is looking at me suggests I’m not going to like what he sees or worse, what he’s willing to say out loud.

“It’s quitting time and the boys are hitting the tavern,” he says.

“Okay, have fun.”

“Nope, we’re all going,” he says. “Consider it team building.”

“Does this mean I’m paying?” I ask.

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Can I pay and not go?” I try my luck.

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “This exercise is mandatory.”

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

“Yep,” he agrees with a smile on his face. “You’re fucked. Now move it.

Twenty minutes later, I pull up a seat on one of the barstools at the Lonely Hearts Saloon in town. This place has been an institution in Ransom Falls for as long as I can remember and even well before that. I rest my elbows on the scuffed planks of the bar and hold my hand up for a beer from the owner, Johnny.

Manny pulls up beside me and a beer just materializes in front of him along with mine. “Thanks,” he offers with a smile.

Being here feels weird. The boys in town are blowing off steam, fresh from a mission, and in need of some down time; the others are off on their next mission. They’ll be back soon enough. They’re all so young and I feel like I’m one hundred-eight.

Not that long ago, I thought Macy and I would be watching babies learn and grow on our farm. Now she’s gone and the kids I’m babysitting are grown-ass adults with adrenaline addictions.

You know what they say?

Plans change.

Life sucks and then you die.

“So—” Manny starts awkwardly.

“So…?” I repeat.