Brad skewered us all with a look, declaring, “You haven’t seen the last of me.”
“Might be wrong but that sounded like another threat,” Tate noted.
“Fuck you!” Brad shouted and Tate looked down at me.
“He always need the last word?”
I considered this, realized it was true as I realized it always kind of annoyed me and nodded.
Tate grinned. “I get you naked in my bed and in the shower, he gets the last word,” Tate’s eyes sliced to Brad, “works for me.”
Brad lunged. “You son of a –”
Tate’s finger, still in my belt loop, pulled me back, he stepped in front of me and the cop stepped in front of Brad, put a hand flat on his chest and cautiously pushed back.
“You don’t wanna do that,” the policeman warned.
Brad glared at Tate then he looked at me.
“Mistake, Ree,” he put a hand up, palm out in my direction, “big fucking mistake.”
Then he turned and stormed off the patio.
We all watched him as he tore down the lane, gravel spitting out from his tires of his rental car, then the policeman turned back to us.
He stuck a hand out to Tate and said, “Marty Fink.”
Tate took his hand, they shook and Tate muttered, “Marty.”
They dropped hands and the cop glanced around us all. “Sorry about that, had to follow up.”
“Your job. Not a problem,” Tate said.
“Is it really cool Dad meets you for a beer at The Station?” Marty asked hopefully as Mack handed Tate a Coke and they both popped the tabs.
“Yeah, man, but we ain’t hangin’ out. We gotta get back to the hospital,” Tate answered then took a pull on his Coke.
“When you goin’?” Marty asked.
“Leavin’ in fifteen, twenty,” Mack answered.
“All call Dad,” Marty muttered and then his eyes went to Tate. “You’ll make his year.”
Tate didn’t reply; he just lifted his chin.
Marty raised his hand in a half wave. “Again, sorry folks.” He looked at me. “Hope he burns out and realizes he’s actin’ like an ass and you can just keep on…” he paused and glanced at Tate before finishing, “keepin’ on.”
“Thanks,” I smiled at him.
Marty’s eyes got serious and he stated, “Jackson was a cop, now a bounty hunter, I think he gets this but if you don’t… that guy gets in your face again, you go to the police.”
“It won’t be an issue,” Tate put in.
Marty nodded to Tate but repeated, “He gets in her face again, you get her to go to the police.”
“Right,” Tate replied, Marty nodded again, looked at us all, gave another half wave, turned and walked away.
“Tatum fuckin’ Jackson,” Mack said and everyone turned to look at Tate who was studying Mack.
“What was that all about?” Caroline asked, getting close.
“First round draft pick, Philadelphia Eagles, do I remember right?” Mack asked Tate and I felt my eyes get wide as I stared at Tate.
“Yeah,” Tate answered.
“Star at Penn State, Eagles traded picks to get you, the whole fuckin’ state adopted you as a native son,” Mack went on.
Tate sighed then said, “Yeah.”
“Holy cow,” Carrie breathed.
Mack seemed not to hear Carrie, put a big hand on Tate’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “Bad shit, man. Remember it. Saw the game. Sucked.”
“Long time ago,” Tate muttered as Mack’s hand dropped.
“What sucked?” I asked and Tate’s eyes came to me but Mack spoke.
“End of his second game, pro ball, he got crushed after recovering a fumble he forced and ran back for a TD, got nailed in the endzone, late hit. Guy blew out his knee.”
“Pro ball?” I whispered.
“Long time ago,” Tate repeated.
“Pro ball?” I repeated back.
Tate turned to me. “Ace –”
I interrupted him. “You played professional football?”
“For two games,” Tate replied.
I was unable to process this therefore kept repeating myself. “You played professional football?”
Tate’s hand came to my waist and slid around to my back, guiding me closer to him as he did. “For two games a long time ago,” he repeated quietly.
I was thinking I really did not know Tatum Jackson when I focused on his face and it hit my fogged brain I knew one thing about him. That one thing was how to read his face and his face said he didn’t want to talk about this.
Then again, you’re a first round draft pick professional football player and your career is cut way short when some guy blows out your knee, you end up back in a nowhere town like Carnal working in a bar part-time, as a bounty hunter the rest of it, that wasn’t a particular glory day you wished to spend a great deal of time reflecting upon.
I got closer and pressed my front to the side to Tate’s long body.
Then I looked at Caroline and Mack and declared on a total lie, “I’m starved.”
*