“Fourteen. And yes, I have a couple lawyer friends. I have friends in every branch of every tree, including you. You’re a badass ex-fed, and you got Army Ranger friends, which means now I got Army Ranger friends.”
“You just collect soldiers, huh?” I glance down at the paper and quiet my laugh. “You think life is a game, and because you introduce yourself to a guy, we’re best friends, and I’d lay my life down for you?”
He gives an arrogant nod. “That’s exactly how it is. Now please help me with my math shit before Mom gets back.”
“Alright.” Blowing out an explosive breath, I run a hand over my face and prepare for the war this kid seems so willing to drag me into. And if I were to take him at his word, he’s claiming Spence, too. I should tell him to armor up, because Mac is a live grenade just waiting to deploy his troops and hit a guy whose name might be Zeke. “Okay, fine, so we’re multiplying by indices, see?” I push his book back. “You got two to the power of two, multiplied by two again to the power of five.”
Pulling back with an exaggerated scowl, he scoffs. “That did not help onefreakin’bit. You have three seconds to speak English, Cap. Then you gotta bounce outta my booth before my momma scalps you.”
Chuckling, I take an up-close study of the kid who was once Katrina Blair’s baby. Quick-witted, broad-chested, and with a potty mouth he’s not afraid to spit at anyone who walks by. He’s bigger than you’d expect for his age – he’s not super wide, but wider than most of his peers, and tall to go with it – but rumor has it he’s been training at the local fight gym, which explains the mean right hook Iknowhe wanted to throw last night.
“Alright, let’s break it down a little more. We’re gonna carry that bottom two across.” I continue pointing as he starts writing. “And that three and five up top can be added together. So now we got two to the power of eight.”
“Alright.” With uncertain movements, he scratches out a two and adds a small eight above that. “Next?”
“So that means we gotta work out what two times two times two times two…” When he lifts a skeptical brow and fists his pencil the way his mom does, I stop and clear my throat. “Write it out like two times two, but eight times.”
“So, sixteen?”
“No. We’re multiplying it eight times, not by eight, ya know what I mean?” When he stares cluelessly, I huff. “Plug it into your calculator.”
“Mr. Banner said no calculators.”
Mr. Banner can suck my dick and choke.But instead of saying so out loud and getting myself into a whole bunch of trouble when the kid snitches to his mom, I take out my cell and do the math for him. “Two times two times two times two times two times two times two times two.” Hitting enter, I turn my cell and flash a triumphant smile. “Two fifty-six.”
“You sure that’s correct?” He lifts a dubious brow. “I can’t afford more fails. Mom’ll kill me.”
“Check it if you want, but I’m sure.”
“I believe ya.” He writes the answer at the bottom and moves on to the next. “Same question, but new numbers. Five to the power of five, multiplied by three to the power of four. Super lame fuckin’ questions, by the way.”
And yet, he starts writing it out the way we did on the last one.
“Goddammit, Mac!”
At his mother’s screeched curse, Mac’s back snaps straight, and his gaze shoots across the checker-floored diner. “Mom?” For a second, his face pales, and fear takes over his eyes, but then he flips his attitude and plays her the way he did last night. He drops his fear and picks up an air of not giving a fuck instead. It’s like he canseeher buttons, and he plays each and every one. “Can I please have some of the pie? I’m still kinda hungry.”
Katrina walks forward with narrowed eyes and a pen wielded like a sword, the woman I’ve always considered a 1950s pin up model because of her luxurious hair, the lipstick she almost always wears, and the hourglass shape of her body, stops by our table and drops her hands to her hips. “Ah…” Her screaming eyes study mine. “You lose your way back to your seat? You wanna scoot away from my kid?”
“He’s helping me, Mom.” I smile when Mac’s eyes remain on his paper, but his hand pushes the almost empty minestrone bowl forward. His easiness kills the mom who wants to control the world. “Pretty please for some pie? I finished my dinner, and I’ll do the silverware tonight, I promise.”
“We’re not staying for close tonight, so no silverware. We’re leaving in twenty minutes, just as soon as Tammy arrives. So no to the pie, too.” Again her eyes come back to mine. “Do you mind?”
I clear my throat, sit back, and open my chest. “Do I mind what?”
“You’re sitting with my child, and for the next thousand days, he’s still a minor. I didn’t give you permission to sit there, so…” She waves her hand in a shooing motion. “Unless you wanna be arrested, escorted out of here and led straight to the police station, I suggest you skedaddle. The cops are my friends, so…”
Finally, Mac’s distracted gaze comes back up. “He’s helping me with this, Mom.” He taps his paper with a severely chewed pencil. “I invited him over, and he taught me how to work out the last one, so he’s not completely useless. Fuck if I get the logic, but we still got the answer, so…”
“Potty mouth, Macallistar! For frig’s sake, rein it in.”
He shrugs and pretends he’s not playing her. “Sorry.”
“You say you’re friends with the cops?” Arrogance drips from my tongue and draws the exotic beauty back around until her eyes lock onto mine. Exactly where I want her. “Chief Turner, Deputy Franks, all those friendly folks down at the local PD?” When her eyes flash with attitude, I run a hand through my hair and try to hide my grin. There are moments I’m allowed to be smug. And then there are moments I’d rather not gamble with my life. “They’re my pals too. You could probably call them and ask for a character witness, if you like. I’ll wait.”
“Or, you could get out of my son’s booth in the next three seconds before I move you myself.” I catch a glimpse of her cooks coming out to keep an eye on us, just like they did last night when Zeke was being the dick. “I’ll wait.”
“Mom!” Mac’s eyes widen with embarrassment. “What thefudgeis going on? Cap is our friend, remember? He’s Team Fuck-with-Zeke too. You said we weren’t allowed to pick fights anymore. What gives?”