Quick
Quick slid out of his Range Rover, squinting up at the light breaking through the dawn. He loved this time of the day. Quiet, peaceful. Before the hustle and bustle of the laborers in the city began their day. Atlanta in the winter was beautiful to him, January and February being his favorite months. Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees, and as he walked, he enjoyed the loud crunch they made under his black, steel toe boots. He let his long hair hang for a while, the still-damp strands sending a pleasant chill through him. Propping himself against the large Magnolia tree next to their modest one-story building, he inhaled the smell of nature before it was time to pick up Atlanta’s trash . If he still smoked, it’d be a great time to inhale a few drags to calm his mind. But, since he didn’t, inhaling the big city air would have to do. It was probably just as toxic.
He saw that Duke’s midnight black F350 was already in its usual spot, closest to the side entrance. He’s sure here early. His friend had begun to sleep in on some mornings, he’d been on two brief vacations, and Quick had lost count on the unscheduled days off Duke now took at will.
Duke wasn’t only his best friend since they were still young enough to chase tail; he was also his business partner – and almost son-in-law. Yep, they were a typical American family. It’d been a couple months since Quick’s one and only son confessed his love for his best friend and saved his life by giving one of his kidneys to Duke while he was on his death bed. Now the two were connected in a way that was immune to destruction and disgustingly sweet.
Regardless, Quick was happy for his friend. His son Vaughan had always been a levelheaded, determined individual. Though Vaughan was ten years younger than Duke, he had to admit that they were perfect together. Quick and Duke were both in their early forties, but the new pep in Duke’s step made him look younger and more striking every day. It was about time one of them got their happily ever after. Duke had always been more romantic than him, though. Quick was accustomed to his comfortable, isolated life. He went to work, caught bad guys, kicked ass, hung with buddies here and there, and then went home… alone. He could do that for the rest of his life. Adding another person into the mix only complicated shit.
“Rome! You going to work today, or not? Out here sight-seeing at nothing.” Duke’s deep voice yelled from the open door.
Quick threw up his middle finger before pushing off the base of the massive tree and making his way up the bricked walkway. “Can’t a man have a few minutes of peace?”
“Not on my fucking dime, he can’t. Now get in here, we have two skips today and Dana is heading over to Fulton to do a bond.” Duke was rattling off the day’s business, already in full steam ahead mode. His energy level through the roof at five a.m. Pfft. I wonder why.
Quick’s steps were heavy along the all-wooden floor. He made a beeline for the still-dripping pot of coffee and poured himself a large cup, not caring about interrupting the flow. He’d slept like shit last night. Although Vaughan hadn’t lived with him very long after he returned from law school, he’d still liked the idea of cooking for two again, of sitting on the patio and discussing his day with his son while they drank a few brews. That had actually been pretty cool. But Vaughan had moved in with Duke fairly fast, so Quick found himself arriving earlier for work than usual and was typically the last to leave.
Duke was going on about where they were headed, but Quick only had one ear tuned in, his other was on… well, anything besides Duke. He dropped down into his chair and spun until his back was to his friend and he could focus on the serenity of the morning outside the large window.
“…Should be a clean pick up. Brian and Ford will be here any minute and we’ll roll out.” Duke finished up, and Quick nodded, still facing the window. He liked going out with the two brothers. They were efficient, sharp, and most of all, strong as oxen. It didn’t even bother him that Brian had yet to speak a word to any of them, still using sign language as his means of communication. Quick’s head jerked up when he heard the door open, expecting it to be the towering brothers. It wasn’t.
“Vaughan, what are you doing here?” Quick stood and hugged his son. They’d just seen each other the night before for dinner, but a hug was their customary greeting. Quick looked his son up and down, frowning at his attire. Noting that he was again dressed like a model, not a lawyer. His blue suit matched the light gray dress shirt he wore under a white and gray vest. No tie and ridiculously expensive gray suede shoes.