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“Alright, everyone, move out of the way while we sort this; the third fight will be on soon,” Trick announces, and everyone scatters, most going to get another drink while they wait for the third and most anticipated fight to start. “Frankie?” Trick continues.
A big burly guy separates from the crowd; he smiles; he looks like a scary fucker, and don’t get me wrong, he can take you down if he has to, but he prefers not to fight, “Yeah, Boss.”
“Are you sober?” Trick asks.
“Yeah, I’ve only had a beer.”
Trick nods and then looks apologetic, “Sorry man, I’m going to need you too.”
Frankie shrugs, “No problem.”
We all start to move, taking the fuckers that were fighting with us, as we begin to head to where we got everyone to park their cars.
Chapter Thirteen
Cash
“Where the fuck do you think you’re taking me,” the kid Rafe is holding starts yelling.
“Back to the cars, you stupid fuck,” one of the others replies.
The kid starts to struggle even more.
“Will you fucking stop it, you idiot. You’re going to make it so much worse for yourself.” Another guy exclaims, getting pissed off.
“You can’t make me leave. I’ve got a lot of money on Ryan in the last fight,” the kid exclaims.
Everyone, even those who are from Tomlinson, burst out laughing.
One of the guys from Tomlinson says, still chuckling, “Dude, you just lost yourself a hell of a lot of money. Only dumb fucks would bet against Jensen, dudes a fucking animal.”
“Aw, careful Tom, you’re gonna make me like you saying sweet shit like that,” Jensen jokes.
Tom grins and replies, “Fuck off.”
“You’re Jensen?” the kid asks, completely ignoring the previous conversation.
“The one and only,” Jensen replies.
The kid snickers, “My brother is going to wipe the floor with you.”
“Brother?” Luc asks and then adds, “Well that explains a lot, you’re both dicks.”
We’ve just reached the lot where all the cars are parked, and Trick chucks Frankie a set of keys, “Take the van and make sure everyone gets home.”
“You got it,” Frankie replies.
“I’m not going anywhere. You can’t make me,” the kid shouts, sounding just like the kid he is.
“Actually, they can,” a guy from our school says, “don’t worry, Trick, we’ll keep him in line until we can drop him off.”
“I’ll help,” Tom says, and the other Tomlinson guy nods in agreement.
“None of us like the fucker or his brother; I’ll happily teach him a lesson if he steps out of line,” the guy, I think his name is Josh, adds.
Trick nods, “Thanks, guys. No fighting in the van though and don’t get fucking caught, we don’t need that tonight.”
“Hey!” someone shouts, and we all groan when Ryan comes running up, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
