“Can’t see from here yet.”
The four of us are like something out of the Wild West, fists ready to whip imaginary guns from dusty holsters, moonshine still on our breaths.
And it’s only noon.
As we walk into the main dining room, on the far wall I see Dane with his smarmy smile, seated facing us in a half-booth, a single, empty chair opposite him. He’s talking to a pretty waitress.
“That’s him.”
She turns to go and Dane’s so focused on her ass that he doesn’t see me coming. He grabs her wrist like he forgot to tell her something. She doesn’t like it, and his lascivious gaze travels down her body as he says, “Get me a water, too, while you’re at it.”
“Let her go, Dane.”
His sick-fuck eyes slide to me. He drops his hand. But only because now people are watching.
“Nicholas,” he greets me with an irritated blink as he sizes up my crew. We didn’t leave on good terms and this approach isn’t friendly. But he relaxes and throws an arm over the back of the bench.
“Allow us,” Wyatt smirks as he and Nathan take hold of the table.
Matthew whips the chair out of the way, causing a bus boy to scramble in the other direction.
My brothers slide the table into the aisle and give me room.
We’ve got everyone’s attention now as I lunge forward, grab Dane Schweis by his expensive lapels and stand him up. “This is for Madison.” I punch him, but hold on with one hand so he doesn’t fall back. Rage takes him over but I dodge his reaction, and hit him again, snarling, “And this is for all the women you’ve creeped the fuck out!”
There are audible gasps, but other than that, silence. Even the music stopped playing.
I toss him backward onto the booth.
He charges at me, swearing, “Cocker, you snot-nosed piece of shit!”
Kicking him back with my shoe, I give an amused look to my crew. “Do I have a booger in my nose?”
All three of them answer with a smirk, “Nah,” shaking their heads.
“Didn’t think so.” Swatting his attempt at a punch I slam my fist into his profile as I move to the side. He falls onto his table, salt and pepper shakers sliding off. My brothers watch them go, and turn back to me.
“We’ll get those later,” Nate chuckles.
Grabbing Dane by his lapels again, I growl in his face, the entire restaurant watching. “I always hated you.” Louder I call out, “This piece of shit tried to force himself on his nanny and when she screamed and the children came running, he told his wife and their entire community that she was the one who made a pass at him! He purposefully ruined her reputation.”
Murmurs fly throughout the seated crowd.
“I also know for a fact that he cheats on his wife and thinks he can use his money to take advantage of girls who don’t have any. He says all women want is someone else to pay their way. How do I know?”
My punch comes so fast it’s a blur. He bangs onto the seat, stunned.
“Because he told me.”
Turning to the crowd I see phones pointed at us. We’re being videoed. I give the cameras a wave as we stroll out. “And now you know it for a fact, too.”
Matt raises his voice to add, “A real man stands up for good women.”
The restaurant breaks out in applause as we continue our satisfied journey to the exit.
Wyatt taps my shoulder. “Nicholas, look.”
The four of us stop to witness that pretty waitress Dane grabbed, pouring the water he sleazily asked for, right onto his head.
People whistle over more applause and cheering. And fuck if that doesn’t feel good.
Down with evil bastards.
Down with them all.
CHAPTER 39
M ADISON
I n an enormous backyard in Buckhead, I’m seated under a brick-red umbrella with the dignified and kind-spirited Nancy Cocker—or as Nicholas calls her, Grandma Nance.
“Madison, those women sure can be vicious when they want to be. There’s a good and a bad to that. If the rumor was true, and you had made a pass at Mr. Schweis, then of course they should rally together and keep you away from their husbands. But that man! I tell you—one look at him and you know he’s a dark soul. And that viper of his, she is toxic! Always spreading dirt wherever she walks. I try not to get involved with the gossip—I’m too old for all that useless drama—but some just love to live in muck, don’t they? Sometimes it’s just the mob mentality, too. Everyone getting all excitable over nothing! It makes them feel good as pigs to swim in filth. It never does anybody any good, and the feelings you get from that sort of thing never last. Plus, who do you trust when you surround yourself with snakes? Oh…pigs, snakes…I’m mixing my metaphors, aren’t I? Well, this sort of thing just makes me mad.” Her warm brown eyes light up as the screen door clatters on the house. “My husband and I prefer a quiet, happy life, don’t we, Michael?”
Ex-Congressman Michael Cocker strolls out with his hands comfortably in the pockets of wrinkle-free khaki slacks. His crisp white, short-sleeved button-up shows off the age spots on his sinewy arms. He must still work out, but I can tell he’s not the intimidating size he once was, despite his height. But he’s still quite handsome. And of course it gets me to thinking of what Nicholas will look like when he’s that age.
Sharp green eyes flit to the sun as he descends three steps that take him from the porch onto a large expanse of lawn. He’s thinking about her question, and she’s patiently awaiting his response. It’s an interesting display, especially for someone like me who enjoys observing the dynamics of personal relationships in action. All of those child psychology courses taught me many things about people in general. But these two have left their immature years and impulses far behind
