Voices rise from inside the house, and people pass in front of the living room window. Through the doorway, I can see Nic as she’s shouting at her bitch ass brother. Two teen boys and three girls appear from the corners, all half yelling at each other and at Nic.
“Fuck that,” I say and hop off my bike. Walking slowly from the drive and down the concrete pathway, I try to listen to what’s being said before I let the kids know I’m here. Against the wall that separates the living room and entrance is Nic. Jeremy towers over her and is shouting in her face. She looks like she’s giving as good as she gets, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. The way he’s crowding her makes me pick up my pace.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? This is my house, not yours!” he screams. “Quit being such a fucking bitch!” Something in me snaps, and I barrel forward right into the house. I run into two bodies that part, each going a different direction, and I slam into Jeremy. My hands find purchase in his shirt and I push him forward. He stumbles and falls on the floor in front of the couch. His dark blue eyes are wide, and his jaw is slack.
“Get up!” I shout. He doesn’t move fast enough, so I lean down and yank him up by the front of his shirt. Up close I can see how bloodshot his eyes are. Paralyzed in fear, his body shakes and his eyes water. The smell of beer is on his breath—my beer. Fucking shithead. I tighten my grip on him then push him off of me and down onto the couch. Pointing a finger at him, I say, “Any body part you move I’m going to break the fuck off.”
I turn back to the teens, who are all huddled around in shock. The three girls make a move for the door. “Stop!” I scream. They freeze in place in the middle of the doorway. I pass Nic and place a hand on her shoulder. “Go to the couch, baby,” I say quietly.
The other two boys stand around and fidget. I decide to deal with them first. Standing in front of them and holding my hand out, I say, “ID’s.” They stare up at me in surprise, but don’t do as they’re told. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, boys. I’m gonna need your ID’s. Now.” Very slowly, they pull out their wallets and hand their ID’s over. Turning to the girls, I do the same thing, but they’re quick to cooperate. “You little assholes drank my beer and disrespected my Old Lady. Is this going to happen again?”
All of their heads shake, and the moment I let them go, they run right out of the house like their asses are on fire. I can’t help to smile as I watch them flee. There are a few perks of being Forsaken, and this is one of them. Dumb little bastards.
I shut the front door and walk back into the living room. Jeremy’s turned toward Nic, and he’s whisper shouting, “Tell him to back off and I’ll clean up the mess. We could get along a lot better if you would just chill out.” Her lips are pursed, and she’s staring straight ahead into nothingness.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I scream. His eyes dart to mine, and he grumbles something under his breath. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“I said this isn’t your house,” he says back with attitude. I nod and look down at Nic, who’s curling into herself. “And it isn’t hers, either. This is my dad’s house.”
The dig is subtle, but she catches it. The way he emphasizes the point that Butch isn’t Nic’s biological dad makes my jaw tick. Butch is her dad in every way that counts.
“Hey, you wanna be a man? Start fucking acting like one. You do not push around women half your size, for starters. And you ain’t got shit. You’re a fucking kid,” I snap back. “Now shut the fuck up.”
“Is this what you been dealing with?” I ask Nic. She lifts her head and looks up at me with sad eyes, but she won’t give him up.
“Fine,” I tell her and turn back to Jeremy. “I’ll deal with this on my own. You’re already in debt to me, kid. Don’t make your situation worse.”
Jeremy folds his arms over his chest and, despite his size, he looks so much like his sister. They have the same damn pout, but it ain’t fucking cute on him. “Go to your room, and if I hear so much as a peep out of you, I’m going to beat the shit out of you until I get tired.”
Standing from his seat on the couch, he walks up to me with determination in his eyes. “You’re not my dad,” he hisses, “and you can’t tell me shit.”
That’s it.
That’s fucking it.
I nod, then bring my fist back and connect it to his cheek. He stumbles backward, his body bent forward, and he’s holding his jaw. “That was a warning shot. You’re just a little bitch boy whose mouth has outgrown his brains. I ever catch you talking to your sister like that and I’ll be getting word to your old man. I’m sure he’d have a few things to say about your attitude. You want that?”