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“That’s enough, son,” Dad says. “That is enough.”
Two police vehicles scream around the corner and skid to a halt outside Ganny’s house, their sirens wailing and lights flashing. Two officers approach, frowning at the commotion we’ve caused, and good sense finally wins out.
I step back, shake off my brother’s hands, and clear my throat.
Seth’s watching me with a glint in his eyes, and I meet his stare head on. One day, someone’s going to teach this motherfucker a lesson, and I hope I’ll be there to see it or at least to help.
“There a problem over here?” Officer Bronson asks, shifting his belt. He’s been an officer in this town since I was in my teens, and he eyes me. “Causing trouble, Mr. Taylor?”
“That won’t look good in them fancy tabloids,” the second officer says. He must be new to Heatstroke because I don’t recognize him.
“All under control,” Jesse says.
“That so?” Officer Bronson looks up and down the street, smacking his lips. “Cuz we got a call about a domestic disturbance from a couple of your neighbors. Apparently, there’s been some kinda fight out in the street.”
“Some lady called to tell us that Mr. Cash Taylor, the famous musician, was about to beat up a guy in a suit.” The second officer, who’s fast making my shit list, nods to Seth.
Deveraux lifts both his palms. “I’m the only guy in a suit around here,” he says, “and I can tell you that nobody was going to beat anybody else up.”
At least he’s not a snitch.
“That true?” Officer Bronson spears me with a glare.
Deveraux has the power to fuck with me, right now, and I know it. I nod, trying to keep the sneer from my lips.
“Everything’s fine here.” Jesse’s a deputy, not an officer, but he works closely with the local station since they service the two main towns in our county. “All under control. You boys can head back to the station.”
Officer Bronson hesitates. “I’m going to have to ask y’all to clear out of the street anyways.”
I nod again.
“I was just on my way back to the office. Mr. Taylor,” Deveraux says, directing that at my father, “I’ll be in touch. You made a smart choice today, and I look forward to turning your bar into what it was always meant to be.”
“Thanks, son.”
Son.
Jesse squeezes my shoulder painfully to distract me.
Seth gets into his car and drives off. I move off the sidewalk and up to Ganny’s house, closely followed by Jesse and Dad.
The cops leave after a little more blustering and checking that everyone’s where they should be, and my grandmother appears in the doorway. “Y’all done acting the fool out there?” she asks.
“Ganny.” Jesse gives her a hug. “You got any of those chocolate chip cookies? My favorite ones?”
Ganny gives him a radiant smile that wipes the years from her face. “Anything for you, Jesse-Poo.” She pinches his cheek, and then shuffles back inside.
Jesse eyes me. “Don’t do anything dumb.”
I point at my chest. “Me? Me?”
“Don’t,” he whispers, and then follows Ganny inside.
My father sits down on the porch swing, rocking himself by the heels. He watches me. I’m equal parts tired and pissed.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say. “Sold to Deveraux. He’s a shark.”
“I know it.”
