Wrong Ways Down by Stacia Kane

pick her up. Terrible ain’t could blame him. Amy were real cute, she were, with that blonde hair all curled and them big brown eyes. Not as pretty as Chess, but nobody were pretty like Chess. He ain’t could blame Roley, leastaways, much as he probably oughta be pissed.
    Amy ain’t looked happy he were next to her, though, and the way she jumped up when he got close, the way she grabbed him … Roley were bugging her.
    He slipped his arm around her and gave Roley a short half-nod. The kind let Roley know seeing him there weren’t a thrill. “Hey,” he said, and waited for a response.
    Roley ain’t looked guilty or aught like that, so guessing he knew who Amy were after all. He nodded toward the bar. “Dude making trouble?”
    Terrible shrugged. Weren’t something he wanted to explain, or talk about. He ain’t felt bad about it—the kid asked for it, and he couldn’t let people get away with that shit if he wanted to keep doing his job right—but he did feel … sort of exposed, like everybody knew the kid were just an excuse.
    He looked back at Roley. Waiting, and letting Roley see he were waiting, until Roley finally spoke. “Hoping for a quick chatter, you got a minute?”
    Funny. He ain’t really realized it til just then, but he didn’t think he liked Roley much. Something about him were just … he ain’t knew a word for it. Smug, maybe. Like he figured everybody owed him everything, everybody loved him, everybody’d do what he wanted.
    Problem was it were sorta true. Bump dug Roley’s cousin Lacey; she’d been around longer than a lot of his women, though not as long as a few. But Bump wanted to keep her happy. And Roley’s other cousin Vole had worked with Bump seven years gone, were a good solid man to have around. Vole had proved heself more’n once. Meant Roley had some trust, some name , right up front.
    Shit like that might go to a lot of dudes’s heads. Or Roley maybe were just one a them awkward people always seemed like he were being a dick when he weren’t.
    None of that mattered iffen Roley had knowledge for him, which were the only reason Terrible could think on why he’d need to talk right then. So he gave Roley a nod, jerked his head toward the back of the room so Roley knew to follow. Roley maybe could have something good for him. Roley knew a lot of people, seemed like.
    Or Roley were just a dickhead after all, because as soon as they got to the back, he said, “Were wondering on New Year’s, aye? Supposed to be workin, I am, but got asked to spend time with this dame I’m tryna fuck. Were thinking maybe you let me off, dig? Been tryna fuck she for weeks, see, thinking this might be my shot.”
    That were what he had to talk on just then? That were what was so fucking important? Getting inside some dame? He stood there staring probably longer than he ought, because what the fuck he were supposed to say?
    Cepting for “No,” which he said as soon’s he found his tongue again.
    Roley’s brows drew together. Suddenly he face didn’t look so open and friendly no more; he looked … weaselly. Ratlike. “C’mon, Terrible, gimme a fuckin break here. Tryna fuck this dame, figuring maybe be my fuckin chance. Gots other dudes you can put onna street that night, can—”
    “Other dudes been workin longer. You ain’t—”
    “Other dudes ain’t near family with Bump,” Roley said. Interrupted him to say. Roley fucking interrupted him. Shitty little asshole.
    But shitty little asshole who were true thing closer to Bump than most new ones, or leastaways, were close to somebody Bump wanted kept happy. Were Terrible to do what he wanted to do—which was knock Roley to the floor—it might make Lacey unhappy, which would be an unfairness to Bump. Bump would understand once he heard why, but still. And Bump had he a bigger tolerance for assholes than Terrible did, specially when he were getting laid from it.
    So instead of planting his fist in Roley’s face he narrowed his eyes.