she makes you feel."
" Yeah... okay, yeah I got you."
" Don't say nice either," Ace muttered, poking ineffectually at the lump of ice in his whiskey, trying to jar another cube loose. "Nice is like death."
The letter was a team effort in the end. Liam eventually rewrote the entire thing when he saw Goose 's drunken handwriting scrawling across the napkins. Goose signed it with a blurry flourish.
" Your real name is Neil?" Liam wrinkled his nose.
" Yep." Goose popped the "P". "My daddy's father's name."
" You are not a Neil." Liam capped the pen.
" You're telling me! Got Goose in high school and even if it is sort of a shitty nickname, it's still a hell of a lot better than Neil."
" What about you?" Liam asked Ace, who was beginning to look a little wobbly at the bottom of his glass.
" What about me?"
" Oh, he's not going to tell you his name. I've known him since we were thirteen, and I don't fucking know. Has his whole family sworn to secrecy, the paranoid freak." Goose snorted. "Deb claims she knows, but I think she's full of shit."
" She had to know." One blond dreadlock had escaped the leather thong, falling to the side of Ace's high cheekbone. It looked oddly sweet there. "Didn't have a damn choice, but if she ever tells anyone, murder in the first degree."
" Where is Deb anyway?" Liam turned around, aware for the first time that the bar had started to empty out. It must have been well after two.
" Probably still making time with those army friends of yours." Goose stole Ace's straw, bending it into a knot. "They were taking up room on the dance floor last I looked."
" Oh. Army, really?" Liam asked, wide-eyed. He'd have guessed ex-gang member before army. Then again, Ace did have a sort of ragged discipline about him. Either way, it was tough to picture him with a gun.
" Fuck. Yeah." Ace rattled his empty glass hopefully in Frankie's direction.
" King of Great Judgment here," Goose waved a hand at Ace, "signed up for the National Guard after high school."
" It seemed like a good idea at the time," Ace huffed. "Weekend warrior, earn some cash, respect my new citizenship. Not like I had a better plan back then."
" Right. He signed up April of 2001. So come September..."
" Jesus." Liam looked Ace over again. It was a little like seeing him for the first time. He tried to imagine that compact body with a crew cut, shuffling through desert in fatigues. "Where? How long?"
" Tour in Afghanistan."
" And you made Captain?"
" No. Just sort of a nickname."
" Because he bossed us halfway to hell and right back out again." Deb took her seat back, sweat soaking her hair from magenta to a dark purple. "We all sort of knew each other, from the same area growing up or whatever. He'd always been this quiet weirdo with the BBC accent. Damned if he didn't have a sixth sense for danger though, and he never steered us wrong. Even commanding officers got to respect it."
" Just common sense. And it's not an English accent, you ass." Ace waved Frankie down. "Did what I had to do and got the hell out as soon as I could."
" Sounds like you did a lot more than that," Liam said softly.
" Yeah, well. You don't know, okay?" Ace gave him a sidelong look. "But thanks."
" Almost closing time, kids." Frankie swept toward them. "Better get your last fun in."
" Shots all around," Deb decreed. "For the birthday boy."
" Shots, I can do." Frankie winked at Liam. "Maybe I better call you a cab. Three of 'em is a little much."
" I'm good, actually." Deb reached over the bar and grabbed an olive, popping it into her mouth before Frankie could smack at her hand. "Pete's going to drive me home."
" Ugh." Ace frowned. "You sure?"
" Just because you don't like him doesn't mean I can't enjoy certain parts of him," Deb said primly, spitting a pit into her palm. "Prairie Fire all around, please."
Three shots of vodka and hot sauce later, Goose was back to leaning sloppily on Liam while Ace seemed to be concentrating intently on the puddle
" Yeah... okay, yeah I got you."
" Don't say nice either," Ace muttered, poking ineffectually at the lump of ice in his whiskey, trying to jar another cube loose. "Nice is like death."
The letter was a team effort in the end. Liam eventually rewrote the entire thing when he saw Goose 's drunken handwriting scrawling across the napkins. Goose signed it with a blurry flourish.
" Your real name is Neil?" Liam wrinkled his nose.
" Yep." Goose popped the "P". "My daddy's father's name."
" You are not a Neil." Liam capped the pen.
" You're telling me! Got Goose in high school and even if it is sort of a shitty nickname, it's still a hell of a lot better than Neil."
" What about you?" Liam asked Ace, who was beginning to look a little wobbly at the bottom of his glass.
" What about me?"
" Oh, he's not going to tell you his name. I've known him since we were thirteen, and I don't fucking know. Has his whole family sworn to secrecy, the paranoid freak." Goose snorted. "Deb claims she knows, but I think she's full of shit."
" She had to know." One blond dreadlock had escaped the leather thong, falling to the side of Ace's high cheekbone. It looked oddly sweet there. "Didn't have a damn choice, but if she ever tells anyone, murder in the first degree."
" Where is Deb anyway?" Liam turned around, aware for the first time that the bar had started to empty out. It must have been well after two.
" Probably still making time with those army friends of yours." Goose stole Ace's straw, bending it into a knot. "They were taking up room on the dance floor last I looked."
" Oh. Army, really?" Liam asked, wide-eyed. He'd have guessed ex-gang member before army. Then again, Ace did have a sort of ragged discipline about him. Either way, it was tough to picture him with a gun.
" Fuck. Yeah." Ace rattled his empty glass hopefully in Frankie's direction.
" King of Great Judgment here," Goose waved a hand at Ace, "signed up for the National Guard after high school."
" It seemed like a good idea at the time," Ace huffed. "Weekend warrior, earn some cash, respect my new citizenship. Not like I had a better plan back then."
" Right. He signed up April of 2001. So come September..."
" Jesus." Liam looked Ace over again. It was a little like seeing him for the first time. He tried to imagine that compact body with a crew cut, shuffling through desert in fatigues. "Where? How long?"
" Tour in Afghanistan."
" And you made Captain?"
" No. Just sort of a nickname."
" Because he bossed us halfway to hell and right back out again." Deb took her seat back, sweat soaking her hair from magenta to a dark purple. "We all sort of knew each other, from the same area growing up or whatever. He'd always been this quiet weirdo with the BBC accent. Damned if he didn't have a sixth sense for danger though, and he never steered us wrong. Even commanding officers got to respect it."
" Just common sense. And it's not an English accent, you ass." Ace waved Frankie down. "Did what I had to do and got the hell out as soon as I could."
" Sounds like you did a lot more than that," Liam said softly.
" Yeah, well. You don't know, okay?" Ace gave him a sidelong look. "But thanks."
" Almost closing time, kids." Frankie swept toward them. "Better get your last fun in."
" Shots all around," Deb decreed. "For the birthday boy."
" Shots, I can do." Frankie winked at Liam. "Maybe I better call you a cab. Three of 'em is a little much."
" I'm good, actually." Deb reached over the bar and grabbed an olive, popping it into her mouth before Frankie could smack at her hand. "Pete's going to drive me home."
" Ugh." Ace frowned. "You sure?"
" Just because you don't like him doesn't mean I can't enjoy certain parts of him," Deb said primly, spitting a pit into her palm. "Prairie Fire all around, please."
Three shots of vodka and hot sauce later, Goose was back to leaning sloppily on Liam while Ace seemed to be concentrating intently on the puddle
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