us. We were too tough for him. Right, little brother?”
Donnie held his fist out and the two of them bumped knucks.
Des observed them, unconvinced by their bravado. “Donnie, why don’t you tell me your side of what happened between you and Bement?”
Donnie glanced uncertainly at his brother before he said, “Nothing happened. Stevie and me were gonna take Allison out to dinner is all. You know, like a welcome home party.”
“So you three are old friends?”
“Growing up, me and Stevie were best buds with Lester.”
“My big brother,” Allison explained, her face darkening.
“Don’t believe I’ve encountered Lester. Does he live elsewhere now?”
“If you want to call it living,” she answered bitterly. “He joined the Army out of high school, and his Hummer got totalled in a roadside bombing in downtown Baghdad. He lost both legs, not to mention everything in between. He’s still rehabbing at a military hospital.”
“I’m sorry.” Des turned back to Donnie and said, “Keep talking.”
“Well, Allison said she was going to get changed for dinner-”
“And I went in to give her some wardrobe advice,” Stevie interjected, grinning. “Pretty soon, the two of us were getting all kinds of-”
“Stevie, I’m planning to eat a nice hot meal tonight,” Des said sharply. “I really don’t want to hear what you were getting, okay?”
“I was just hanging with Teeny, getting caught up, when that Vickers bastard pulls up,” Donnie went on. “And right away he gets all up in my face. Tells me, stay out of her life, go away. Hey, she’s my sister, man. I’m supposed to watch out for her, know what I’m saying?”
“Damned straight, little brother.”
“And I tell him that. So the bastard shoves me. And I shove him back, because I’m not taking that from him.” Donnie glanced down at the towel he’d been holding to his nose. The bleeding had stopped. “And then you showed up.”
“I see.” Des stood there with her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you three relax?”
The air outside felt bracingly cold. A frost was expected later that night. Bement and Justine were seated close together on the top step of the porch. She was stroking his face and whispering to him softly.
“Your turn, Bement,” Des said. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“Donnie started it,” he replied, clenching and unclenching his fists. His hands were big and roughskinned.
“We’re not in the school yard anymore. I really don’t care who started it. Just talk to me, will you?”
Bement ducked his head, tucking his long blond hair behind his ears. “I stopped by to pick up Justine. We’d talked about going to a movie.” He reached into the kangaroo pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, pulled out a pack of unfiltered Lucky Strikes and lit one. He got to his feet and leaned against one of the porch support beams, smoking it. He wore a tweed blazer over his hoody, baggy cargo pants, scuffed wing tip shoes. A mismatched outfit, but on him it all seemed to work. “The second I walk in the front door Donnie starts ordering me to leave his sister alone. Acting all badass convict.”
“Donnie was being a confrontational jerk,” agreed Justine, her long black hair shining in the porch light. “Then he told Bement to step outside if he was a real man. Sweetie, I can’t believe you let him bait you that way.”
“I’m not afraid of those turds,” Bement snapped, his blue eyes blazing.
“It’s not about being afraid.” Justine’s voice was patient but firm. “It’s about stooping to their level.”
“Heshoved me. And he called you a slut for being seen with me.”
“Who cares?” she demanded. “I don’t.”
Des studied her admiringly. Seated there in her toobig leather jacket, Justine Kershaw looked about fifteen. And yet this darkeyed cutie was more mature than any man in the house. “Bement, do you wish to file an assault complaint against Donnie?”
Bement flicked his cigarette butt out into the darkness. “No way.”
Des went back inside. Allison was getting dressed. The Kershaw brothers were seated on the sofa together powering down beers.
“Let me guess,” Stevie said snidely. “He told you Donnie started it. And you believe him, don’t you?”
“Guys, I really don’t care who started it. This goes down as a simple domestic scuffle in my report, nothing more.”
The brothers exchanged a guardedly hopeful look.
“Does the old man have to hear about it?” Stevie wondered.
“Why, you afraid he’ll take you out to the woodshed?”
“Don’t joke about the woodshed, lady,” Donnie pleaded, wincing.
“Your father won’t hear about it from me. Really, I’m more concerned about whether or not this was a warning flare.” Des took off her big Smokey hat and twirled it in her fingers, gazing at the two of them. “I’ve dealt with guys my whole career who couldn’t stay out of jail. You guys have a decent trade. You have choices. That’s why I treated you with respect this morning. I thought we had an understanding. And now I’m realizing I was wrong, because you’ve come here and you’ve dissed me. You’ll get no more slack from me. You just used it all up. It’s gone. I get one more call regarding you two, I’m running you right in-and making sure you’re prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Do you want to go back in?”
“Not a chance,” said Stevie.
“Then start walking the walk. For starters, why don’t you find your own crib? Get out from under your father’s thumb.”
Donnie shook his head. “No way he’d let us.”
“What do you mean ‘let you’? You’re grown men. The only thing that’s holding you back is you.”
And their fear. They were scared to death of that snarly, abusive little father of theirs. This was what had unsettled her when she’d met them that morning. It wasn’t that Stevie and Donnie Kershaw were evil bad asses. It was that they were frightened. Which was definite cause for alarm bells. It was the frightened ones who you had to watch out for. The frightened ones who got in over their heads. The frightened ones who panicked and pulled the trigger.
“I saw for myself how he treats you,” she went on. “The man never stops telling you how stupid and useless you are. If someone like your father keeps telling you that, pretty soon you start believing it. Maybe you two think that’s just his way and he means well…”
“No, he doesn’t,” Donnie said. “He’s a mean bastard. We hate his guts.”
“Then stop letting him chump you.”
“Lady, you know squat about us,” Stevie said in a low, angry voice.
“Fine, have it your way. I’ve said what I wanted to say.” Des glanced at Donnie. “Now you’re going to bump knucks with Bement out on the porch.”
“Don’t do it, Donnie,” Stevie warned him.
Donnie furrowed his brow in confusion. “Will you run me in if I don’t?”
“Honey, you’ll leave me no choice.”
“You’re nasty, know that?” Stevie said. “You’re not a nice lady.”
Bement and Justine were still seated on the top step together, holding hands. Bement’s eye was starting to swell shut. He got slowly to his feet, he and Donnie staring hard at each other.
“I want to make sure there’s no hard feelings,” Des said.
Bement raised his chin at her before he said, “No problem.” And held his fist out.
Grudgingly, Donnie bumped it with his own.
“Now leave,” Justine ordered her brothers. “I want you two gone.”
“We’re waiting for Allison,” Stevie said. “Yo, Allison!”
Justine’s roommate came scuffing out the door now, clutching a denim jacket. She had on a belly shirt and ultra lowrider jeans that showed off a whole lot of skin, which might have been alluring if she was twenty pounds lighter and spent forty hours a week with a personal trainer. As it was, all she was styling were her jiggly love handles.
“Let’s get gone already,” Stevie huffed at her impatiently.