“Eric?” Slowly unfolding his body, Zeke steps out of the booth and stops when his forehead reaches my chin. He expected he’d be bigger. He expected I’d shrink away, but nobody scares me. I’m best friends with the devils themselves. There’s no one on this planet more fucked up and dangerous than the guys I consider my brothers. “You have something you need to tell me, Kat?”
“No!” She yanks my arm and pulls me back. “Absolutely not. Eric, go away.”
“If you’re fuckin’ this dude, then we need to discuss who you invite into my son’s life. We need to discuss the kind of examples you have in your home.”
I guess I expected this dude was her ex. It’s obvious she’d only have this one kryptonite, and he’s ready to ride her for it.
“I’m not fucking him, Zeke.” Her words are a hissed whisper as she tries to pull me back. “I’m notwithanyone, but even if I was, you don’t get a say in it.”
“Fuck I don’t.” Standing taller, he tries to intimidate me with his angry glare and rotting breath. “I’ve been cool about you and Mac. I don’t interfere because I’m generous like that. But if you’re bringing strays into his life, then I might have an opinion about it.”
“Get the fuck outta here!” No longer trying to pull me back, Katrina turns feral and forces me to pull her back. “You aren’t cool about me and Mac. You aren’t doing us any favors. You’re a deadbeat dad who runs from his responsibilities. You don’t interfere because you don’t give a shit.”
“I’ll challenge you for custody.” He throws his hands into the air. “I’ll take my son and show him a real man.”
“You won’t do shit, because fourteen years of unpaid child support is too much for your stingy ass to repay. You won’t do shit, because you don’t give two fucks about the boy you helped create.You won’t do shit, because you’re too damn lazy to take your ass to any law office and fight me on this. Get out of my diner, Zeke, and stay the hell away from me.”
“Mom?”
We spin as one when the bell above the diner door jingles and the boy I know as Mac Blair steamrolls forward in self-appointed protector mode. He’s fourteen, broad, and tall for his age. He shedboya long time ago, and is now filling out his man body, and when he finds me holding his mom back, he doesn’t know where to point his anger.
It takes only a nanosecond for him to make his decision, for him to step between Katrina and Zeke and shove the fucker back so hard, Zeke’s abused body slams back into the booth with a grunt. “Fuck off, Zeke! Don’t touch her again.”
“Boy, I’ll take you home and show you the buckle of my belt.”
The telltale cock of a shotgun makes our group pause. Turning, I come eye to eye with the one and only Franky of Franky’s diner as he points the rifle at Zeke’s pounding chest. “You won’t touch that boy. And you won’t come back into this diner again.”
“I’m just trying to talk to my kid!” His nostrils flare with rage. “You nosy fuckers need to back up and mind your own business.”
“Everything that happens in this place is my business. And before you get it in your head to take this to the street, know that everything that happens with her and Mac is my business. Full stop. They’re my family, and my protection extends everywhere they go, so I suggest you take your stupid ass and put it on the other side of the state border. Leave them be, or you’ll find out what buckshot feels like.”
“This is none of your business, old man!”
“Try me.” Franky slowly makes his way forward with a steady hand and a promise to take this fucker out. His body is getting on in age, his shoulders not as broad or strong as they once were. His cheeks are puffy, his hair receding. But his eyes… they know what’s going on.
Katrina shakes in my arms, not from fear, but from anger. And in front of her, Mac stands guard and refuses to let his own father closer.
“Try me,” Franky growls. “Do it, because I’ve wanted an excuse ever since that girl walked into my diner all those years ago with tears in her eyes and the determination to work herself to death. Nobody should have to work as hard as she does, so if you’re here to make shit harder for her, I’m gonna exercise my right to defend my property and family.” He racks his gun and reinforces his threat. “The only smart thing you can do right now is get out. Walk away, and leave them be.”
Zeke’s glaring eyes study Franky, then Mac. They come back to Katrina as I pull her back so she’s flush against my chest. Then slowly, with pure hatred in his glare, he comes to me. “You need to learn to mind your own business.” Stepping around Mac with a shoulder barge, and stopping in front of Katrina with wild eyes, he brings a hand up and points so close to her face, it takes everything in me to not snap it and teach him a lesson about manners. “I’m going to get a lawyer. Then I’m gonna take him from you. You’ve had him all this time, so from now until he’s a legal adult, he’ll be mine.”
“You won’t do shit,” she spits out. “You’ll go home and cry into your bottle of Turkey. You don’t get to make any decisions for my son, and you sure as shit don’t scare me. Get yourself a lawyer, Zeke, then have fun paying back all that child support. It might make a small dent in his college fund.”
Pushing past us when she refuses to submit, Zeke slams his shoulder into mine and reminds me it might be broken, then he kicks the diner door open with his boot and makes the glass crack and web.
“Fuckin’ prick,” Mac hisses. Turning, he grabs Katrina’s arms and takes her from me. “I’m sorry he’s a dick, Mom.”
“Why are you here?” Throwing her son’s hands off, Katrina shoots forward and snaps up the coffee pot that’s all but cold by this point. “Why are you here, Macallistar? It’s a school night, and you’re supposed to be in bed. You had to walk here, at eleven at night!” Zooming across the diner and refilling the shocked elderly couple’s coffees, she pushes the mugs closer with shaking hands and forces the dark liquid to spill onto the table. “You want me to trust you, but you’re walking around at nearly midnight on your own. You’re fourteen!”
“I came to walk you home,” he croaks out. “I was in bed, but didn’t fall asleep. The car is being dicky, and I knew your shift was ending, so I came to walk with you.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that, baby! I can’t focus if you’re out in the middle of the damn night and not tucked away in bed.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to take care of yo–”
“I didn’t ask you to take care of me!” Spinning to the cracked door, Katrina chokes on a cry when the breeze outside blows it closed and makes the cracks worse. “I’m so sorry, Franky.” Rushing forward, she closes the door securely so it stops moving with the breeze, then she turns back and meets my eyes. Hers water with rage, fear, maybe a little humiliation. “You don’t ever get to step up in front of Zeke again.”
“Me?” I point at my chest, as though she must surely be talking to someone else. “He was twisting your arm.”