“Inside,” Tyson orders. His whole body has gone solid. His whole demeanor changes.
“I don’t—”
“Inside, Rory,” Tyson snaps at me. The firmness in his voice is one I’ve never heard before. Well, not directed at me, at least. My body has a strong reaction to it. One that goes straight between my thighs. So not the time. “Rory, I’m not messing around. Get your little ass into that house and make sure your brothers aren’t hearing this.”
“Okay, please be careful.” I rush into the house. I hear the man shouting after me. He might think I’m my mom. We have the same hair and are about the same size.
I fight back tears, not sure if I should lock the door or not. What if Tyson needs to run into the house? Oh God, this man could hurt or even kill him. He could be drugged out of his mind. I’m guessing he’s either a drug dealer or one of my mom's ever-changing boyfriends.
I swear if Tyson makes it out okay, I’ll kiss that man. At this point he’s all but earned it.
CHAPTER 5
TYSON
“This ain’t none of your business. This is between me and that bitch.” The mean drunk tries to push his big body past me. The alcohol fumes rolling off his frame are enough to knock me off my feet.
That bitch he’s referring to is Rory’s mom. “Well, she’s not here, but her kids are. It’s a school night, and they’re getting ready for bed. Anything you’ve got to say to Shelly can be said tomorrow.”
“I’ll take one of the kids then. Shelly can come ransom him.” The drunk’s face twists into an ugly sneer. “Or her.” He grabs his package. “I can take payment right here.”
I guess he wants to get hit. That’s all I can think of. So I oblige. I sock him in the jaw and kick him in his package and then his face. He spins, howls, and then lands on the hard-packed dirt yard, a cut above his eye dripping blood from his forehead to his chin.
Behind me, the front door bangs against the siding, and three sets of shoes clamor down the stairs.
“That was so cool,” Dean cries.
“Like a cartoon!” Logan yells.
“Are you all right?” Rory comes up to my side and twists my face to the right and left.
“I’m fine. Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?”
“Yes, but the boys heard this man yelling and thought you might need help.”
Not the answer I was looking for. “And if this guy had a gun or even a knife, then what?”
“Then we wouldn’t have come out.”
I don’t believe her, but I don’t feel like arguing either.
“Come inside before you go home. Eat some of your leftovers.” She tugs on my arm.
“Let me take care of this first.” I’ll need to call the chief and have this dude hauled away.
“You can do it inside.” She takes my hand, and like an obedient dog, I follow.
As we walk toward the steps, Logan slips under my other arm. “Can you teach me some of those moves, Tyson?”
“Sure.”
“Me too,” Dean says. “What kind of martial art is it? Karate? Judo?”
“Self-defense.”
“Huh?” the boys chorus.
“I took the same self-defense class in high school,” Rory says as she holds the door open. “I would not be able to pull that roundhouse kick off.”
“I’m a little athletic.” I slap the two boys on the back. “Go get back into bed so your sister can get some shut-eye, too.”
The two immediately run down the hall for the bedroom. Rory sighs. “Why can’t they listen to me like they listen to you?”
“Because I’m the fun visitor and you’re their parent.”
“I’m their sister.”
“That too.” I pull out my cellphone and dial the dispatcher. “You go eat while I take care of the mess outside.”
She crinkles her nose at me because she doesn’t like being ordered around but her stomach growls, and she slips away.
“What’re you doing up so late, Mr. Carter?” the third shift dispatcher, Bette, chirps in my ear.
“There’s a mess on the sidewalk over on Kellogg and 14th Street. Thought someone might want to come out and clean it up.”
A long silence floats down the line. “Kellogg?” Bette’s voice is full of disapproval. “There are two rules of Edison. One is nothing good happens after dark, and the other is nothing good happens on Kellogg. What are you doing there, son?”
“Visiting friends.”
“Are you doing drugs, Tyson Carter? Because if you are, your momma’s heart is going to crack in two, and your daddy is going to have a heart attack.”
“Nothing like that is happening, and my parents know where I am. I brought some leftovers to a friend, and when I was leaving, some drunk came at me. I had to defend myself. He just needs to sleep off whatever it is that got him so riled up, but he should probably do it behind bars because you don’t know what kind of mood he’s going to be in when he wakes. Now are you going to send someone out, or do you want me to drive him into the station?”