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Evan was either drunk or stupid, because he decided to get in Dial’s face, yelling and pointing at her. Giving it a split second, I checked for Shelton, wanting to allow her new man a chance to intervene, but he was nowhere in sight. I crossed the grass and grabbed Evan by his collar, tossing him to the ground. Edison and Cyrus were right behind me.
“You must have a fucking death wish. And I guarantee I’ll grant it for you tonight.”
The yard went silent, the music stopped, and it was just me chewing Evan’s ass out for three whole minutes.
“You have lost your ever-loving mind. Do you know who you’re yelling at? Here in this house, we don’t fucking play about Dial Birch. Listen here, partner, if you go to the Gas Guzzle and Dial’s inside perusing the processed pastries, you better turn your ass around and hightail it out of there. If she walks into the hardware store where you work, you best find your manager and tell him you need a sick day. If Dial so much as mentions she saw your ugly mug at the Doodle Dawgs, I’m choking the shit out of you. Stay away from Dial and I’ll stay the fuck away from you.”
I cleared my throat, painfully aware I sounded like a homicidal maniac.
Edison placed a hand on my shoulder, because if left unchecked I had a mind to continue the tongue lashing. “You can see your way out, Evan.” His talent was always keeping his cool, even when he was throwing someone off his property.
“Fuck you guys. You always take shit too far,” Evan sputtered while backing away.
“I could take it further, have you driving home with your teeth in a napkin,” I retorted.
“Turn the music back on,” Edison said to no one in particular.
I turned, planning to check on Dial, but she was wrapped in Shelton’s arms acting like a damsel in distress. Dial didn’t need protection, could’ve handled Evan herself, but it was the principle of the situation. Who comes to a man’s home and picks a fight with his sister?
Fancy approached me patting me on the back. “You’re never beating the allegations about you and Dial. Oh FYI, Melodie stormed out.”
“Fuck.” I raced to the front of the house hoping to catch up to her.
9
Dial
One Hour Earlier
“So, how’s it going?” Reese asked, touching up her makeup in the bathroom mirror.
“I think I’m gonna fuck Shelton tonight.”
Reese turned around, wide-eyed. “Excuse me?”
“I know it’s just the second date, but we’ve been talking on the phone a lot.”
“Sexy talk?”
“No, getting-to-know-each-other talk.” I flushed the toilet and shoved her with my hip so I could wash my hands.
“Are you doing this because you like Shelton, or is this about Ozzie and Melodie?”
“I couldn’t give two flying fucks about who Oz dates.” There was a knock on the door. “Occupied,” I shouted.
Reese took a seat on the edge of the claw-foot tub. “What about who he sleeps with?”
“I tell you I’m about to pop my coochie and you’re bringing up Oz.”
“Maybe because old Purrline—”
“Who’s Purrline?”
“Your kitty. Purrline and Oz go together real bad.”
A second, more aggressive knock shook the bathroom door. There were two and a half bathrooms in Edison’s house, and the upstairs baths were reserved for family. “I said it’s occupied.” My tone just as annoying as the person’s knocking. “Well, ole girl is gonna have to get over it, because after tonight there’s gonna be a new pussy sheriff in town.”
“Shelton, a pussy sheriff? Bitch, you don’t even believe that. So are we just gonna pretend Oz isn’t the best you’ve ever had?”
