calls me, and he made me lose my hours this week.” I lifted my wrapped hand. “And he started what turned out to be a very long day for me and my poor hand.”
With Clutch and Barrett in the kitchen, Nix had to slide along the wall to get to the sink for some glasses. “What happened out there?” Nix asked. “You never said.”
“There is this dickwad named Bill, calls himself Blackbeard, who carries a casual card and thinks he’s a big shot because of it. Careless sonavabitch nearly pitched headlong over the side of a container and we were a good thirty feet up. But I grabbed him. Next time I think my reflexes might be a little slower. My lashing bar flew over the side, and I ended up losing my hours.”
“Calls himself Blackbeard?” Barrett asked.
“Really?” Clutch asked. “That’s what you got out of it, Rett?” Clutch turned back to me. “So you save the guy’s life and because of his union status, you have to take the blame for his stupidity?”
“Yeah, it sucks.” I dove in for another slice.
“Wow, that seems terribly unfair.” Scotlyn peered longingly over Barrett’s shoulder at the pizza that Clutch and I were vacuuming up at lightning speed.
“Don’t be shy,” Clutch said over a mouthful. “Just reach in and grab a slice, Scottie.”
She lifted her hand cautiously. “To be honest, I’m sort of afraid to put my hand in there.”
I nearly spit out my pizza with laughter. It felt so good to be around everyone again. It was definitely what I needed.
Nix reached in, picked up a piece, and handed it to her. Then he held up his hand and made a show of counting his fingers.
Scotlyn smiled. “My hero. The brave things you do for me. Hey, isn’t the street fair happening along the marina this Saturday? We should all go.”
Clutch and I exchanged glances assuring me that he felt the same way about a street fair.
Scotlyn caught the looks. “Oh, come on, it’s the last one of summer. There will be lots of cool stuff and music.” She looked at Clutch and then at me. “And the flyer said there would be twelve food trucks.”
Clutch twisted his mouth in consideration. “You know, maybe we rushed to judgment, Dray.” He leaned back in his chair and looked toward the living room. “Hey, Taylor, aren’t you going to have some pizza?”
“Not unless it’s covered in Tums,” Taylor called back weakly.
“Poor baby,” Clutch muttered to himself and then leaned back again, “in that case, can I have your piece?”
There was no answer, so, naturally, he took it as a yes.
Nix popped open a beer. “I heard that that new pie truck was going to be down there. Nothing but personal pies.”
“I think we could probably endure the street fair if pie eating was a possibility,” I said.
“Dude, that reminds me,” Barrett looked my direction, “some friends of mine are going down to Mexico to surf next month.” He leaned forward with enthusiasm, and the wobbly table tilted onto two legs for a second. “We should go. After the week at the beach, I’m really into surfing again.”
Clutch pointed to his chin to let Barrett know there was a long string of cheese hanging from his. “First of all, little brother, you don’t have a dime to your name so you can’t afford it. Second of all, you hardly had time to surf last week because you were so damn busy fu—” Clutch paused, looked up at Scotlyn and obviously decided to change his phrasing, “with other activities. And third, and most importantly, I’m not flying down to Mexico to get your sorry ass out of jail after you get caught doing one of the many stupid things I know you’ll do.”
Barrett continued to chew as he stared at Clutch with a bored look. “Are you done? Cause I was talking to Dray. And I will be making money soon enough.”
“Great and then you can get a place of your own,” Clutch said tersely.
“I will.” Barrett looked over at me. “So, what do you say, Dray?”
I shrugged. “I’ll have to rob
With Clutch and Barrett in the kitchen, Nix had to slide along the wall to get to the sink for some glasses. “What happened out there?” Nix asked. “You never said.”
“There is this dickwad named Bill, calls himself Blackbeard, who carries a casual card and thinks he’s a big shot because of it. Careless sonavabitch nearly pitched headlong over the side of a container and we were a good thirty feet up. But I grabbed him. Next time I think my reflexes might be a little slower. My lashing bar flew over the side, and I ended up losing my hours.”
“Calls himself Blackbeard?” Barrett asked.
“Really?” Clutch asked. “That’s what you got out of it, Rett?” Clutch turned back to me. “So you save the guy’s life and because of his union status, you have to take the blame for his stupidity?”
“Yeah, it sucks.” I dove in for another slice.
“Wow, that seems terribly unfair.” Scotlyn peered longingly over Barrett’s shoulder at the pizza that Clutch and I were vacuuming up at lightning speed.
“Don’t be shy,” Clutch said over a mouthful. “Just reach in and grab a slice, Scottie.”
She lifted her hand cautiously. “To be honest, I’m sort of afraid to put my hand in there.”
I nearly spit out my pizza with laughter. It felt so good to be around everyone again. It was definitely what I needed.
Nix reached in, picked up a piece, and handed it to her. Then he held up his hand and made a show of counting his fingers.
Scotlyn smiled. “My hero. The brave things you do for me. Hey, isn’t the street fair happening along the marina this Saturday? We should all go.”
Clutch and I exchanged glances assuring me that he felt the same way about a street fair.
Scotlyn caught the looks. “Oh, come on, it’s the last one of summer. There will be lots of cool stuff and music.” She looked at Clutch and then at me. “And the flyer said there would be twelve food trucks.”
Clutch twisted his mouth in consideration. “You know, maybe we rushed to judgment, Dray.” He leaned back in his chair and looked toward the living room. “Hey, Taylor, aren’t you going to have some pizza?”
“Not unless it’s covered in Tums,” Taylor called back weakly.
“Poor baby,” Clutch muttered to himself and then leaned back again, “in that case, can I have your piece?”
There was no answer, so, naturally, he took it as a yes.
Nix popped open a beer. “I heard that that new pie truck was going to be down there. Nothing but personal pies.”
“I think we could probably endure the street fair if pie eating was a possibility,” I said.
“Dude, that reminds me,” Barrett looked my direction, “some friends of mine are going down to Mexico to surf next month.” He leaned forward with enthusiasm, and the wobbly table tilted onto two legs for a second. “We should go. After the week at the beach, I’m really into surfing again.”
Clutch pointed to his chin to let Barrett know there was a long string of cheese hanging from his. “First of all, little brother, you don’t have a dime to your name so you can’t afford it. Second of all, you hardly had time to surf last week because you were so damn busy fu—” Clutch paused, looked up at Scotlyn and obviously decided to change his phrasing, “with other activities. And third, and most importantly, I’m not flying down to Mexico to get your sorry ass out of jail after you get caught doing one of the many stupid things I know you’ll do.”
Barrett continued to chew as he stared at Clutch with a bored look. “Are you done? Cause I was talking to Dray. And I will be making money soon enough.”
“Great and then you can get a place of your own,” Clutch said tersely.
“I will.” Barrett looked over at me. “So, what do you say, Dray?”
I shrugged. “I’ll have to rob
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