Page 59 of Baiting Kong
“You’re an asshole, you know,” Kong muttered.
“Pretty sure you’ve already said that to him twice tonight.”
That slow, deep, rolling drawl came from out of nowhere, startling Kong enough that he splashed some of his newly refilled beer over the rim of his mug.
“I’m used to it,” Danger said as he peered up at Pope with a look that was half puppy dog and all yearning.
Pope didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t let on, choosing to ignore Danger as he slotted himself between them, forcing them to scoot their barstools apart while Pope leaned until he dangled over the counter. When the man righted himself with a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a shit eating smirk, Kong knew he planned to tie one on tonight.
“Where?” Danger sputtered on the other side of Pope.
“Third shelf down,” Pope explained. “You fuckers always forget about that one.”
“Fuck!” Danger groaned, Kong’s thoughts echoing his sentiments.
“Here’s my two cents,” Pope said, staring Kong down until his non-drinking hand started a restless, twitchy movement along the seam of his jeans. “Quit lying to yourself. Quit trying to be someone you’re not. And for fuck’s sake learn to make that architectural mind of yours think outside of the box. Get creative somewhere that isn’t on paper or a computer screen, put in the work, and go earn what you’re after before you blow your shot. Or don’t. Fuck if I care. But if you walk around here being a miserable prick ‘cause you couldn’t get your shit together, you and I are going to have a different sort of words.”
For a moment, all Kong could do was stare at his rapidly retreating back as he stalked away, Pope’s words echoing on loop through his thoughts. Until he saw the misery anddisappointment on Danger’s face and got distracted wondering what the fuck that was all about.
Chapter 18
(Scout)
“I’m okay, Dad, I swear,” Scout insisted, brushing at the hair his old man had just ruffled.
He felt like a little kid laid up in that hospital bed with his old man fussing over him. Especially with Creature parked in the chair in the corner of the room, the ghost of a smile lifting one corner of his lips while he studied them.
“If you were really okay, you wouldn’t be stuck in this bed,” Pops declared.
“Been hurt a hell of a lot worse playing around in the scrapyard.”
“Believe me, I know,” Pops replied. “You wouldn’t listen then, and you’re being just as stubborn about resting now. Don’t make me get your friend to sit on you to keep you in this bed.”
Now the little quirked-up lip had a partner, as Creature broke into a full-fledged smile. The man wasn’t Hollywood leading man hot, but to Scout’s eyes, he looked better than any of the deliberately scuffed-up men they paraded across the screen. Tall and jacked up from working in the garage, with his long midnight hair flowing over his shoulder and that small smattering of scars on his cheek, he looked dangerous and deadly. And oh so lickable too.
Scout’s inner voice warned that he’d better get the thought out of his head while his Pops was in the room. The last thing heneeded, after all the questions he’d already answered, was Pops asking more, this time about things other than what Scout had been doing to make money.
“He tries to get up and I’ll do more than just sit on him,” Creature said. “I’ll grab a couple gloves off the cart the next time a nurse rolls through and see if they’re stretchy enough to tie him to the bed with.”
Scout’s jaw dropped even as heat pooled in his belly at the thought of being tied up by Creature.
He almost turned to his old man and begged him to make Creature stop giving him shit when he wasn’t in a position to defend himself. Not that he’d stand any chance against all that heavily muscled bulk, but damn it all, Pops turned and flashed a grin in his direction, leaving him hopelessly outnumbered after he’d insisted Axel go to work and not stick around watching him flip channels trying to find something to watch on television.
He'd never liked being indoors, so shows were hard for him to keep up with. Movies, on the other hand, he enjoyed, but in the middle of the morning, there weren’t many selections, especially not ones he’d be interested in. He’d settled for Bob’s Burgers because that at least sounded funny and didn’t disappoint once he started getting into it. Turned out Creature liked it too, though it was a bit shocking that he’d put off work to stick around after Pops had arrived to check on him and Sawyer.
They still had Sawyer upstairs, which was pissing Scout off a little since he still hadn’t been given the chance to see him or speak to him one-on-one so they could get their stories straight.
Scout was just about to ask, again, if they’d let him get out of bed and into a wheelchair so he could go up and talk to Sawyer, when the door to his room opened and a nurse came in, followed by Mark and Ms. Kat, who immediately stepped around Creature to come sit on the edge of his bed.
“Honey, if you needed a day off, there are better ways to go about it.”
Grinning, Scout let her fuss with the blankets and turn his face so she could see what they’d all described as a spectacular bruise on his cheek. Not that any of them would let him see it.
He could feel it though, and it throbbed, despite the gentleness of her touch. When she hissed at the sight of it, Scout got a good idea of how bad it was and how long he’d be sporting it after he got out of there.
“Thank you again for calling me,” Pops said. “I doubt either of my stubborn offspring would have been willing to do it themselves or give the nurses the number so they could clue me in on the shit they’d gotten into.”
She snorted at that and nodded, staring at Scout with the kind of fondness he’d only seen directed at his friends when one of their moms had been around. He still missed his way more than he could ever express sometimes.
