He wasn’t watching Mathieu, though. Beck’s eyes were glued to me as he strode toward us. He’d seen pictures of him before, and if there was any doubt Beck knew who he was, it vanished when he stood beside him.
“Are you Mathieu?”
His answer was immediate. “I am.”
Without another word, before I could intervene, Beck’s arm swung back and then forward, straight into Mathieu’s face.
16
BECK
I wanted to go after her.
Truth was, Mae was an adult. If she chose to tend to Mathieu’s swollen face, or worse, listen to whatever bullshit he was slinging at her, that was her prerogative. Whether I liked it or not, my place wasn’t chasing after her.
It was here, making amends.
“Apologies for what you just witnessed,” I said, loud enough for everyone in O’Malley’s to hear. “It won’t happen again. Drinks on me.”
Some went back to what they were doing before the show. Most cheered. One of my regulars said, “He must have deserved it.” Their reactions didn’t matter though. Owning up to my actions did. Heading behind the bar, now that we were devoid of a tender, I poured myself a shot and downed it. Chatting with my mechanic who was just happy for the free drink, I couldn’t say I was entirely surprised when Parker strolled in.
Cedar Falls. You couldn’t take a piss without someone getting sprayed.
“That didn’t take long.” I slid Parker a beer.
“I was already in town. What the hell happened?”
I shrugged. “That French fuck who cheated on Mae walked in here like he owned the place.”
Parker waited.
“One punch,” Lou called from the other side of the bar, proof no conversation was private in here. “Guy was on the ground. Boy has an iron fist.”
Parker lifted his glass as if to thank Lou for his version of events.
“Did he say anything?”
“I dunno. Muttered something in French. Mae didn’t give him much of a chance to respond before she dragged him out of here. But not before she screamed at me, ran around the bar and knelt down to assess the damage.”
The sight of her expressing even an ounce of concern with the guy who’d ruined her life wasn’t one I wanted to dwell on.
“Two Coors Light drafts, one Tito’s soda—light ice—and a Jack and Coke,” Jenn rattled off at the wait station, already scanning the floor for her next table before flicking her attention back to me. “On the house,” she added, teasingly.
While I made the drinks, I caught Parker’s curious look.
“An apology to the thirsty folks of O’Malley’s.”
“Better be careful, Beck, or word’s going to get out you’re actually a stand-up guy.”
“Watch it,” I warned him. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Speaking of which, Mace and I noticed your dry spell.”
That was my cue to check on the other side of the bar.
“All good down here?” I asked Lou and the two solo flyers perched at the rail.
Unfortunately, they were all topped off. Reluctantly making my way back to Parker, I tried to strike up a conversation about his fishing trip, something he usually couldn’t resist talking about. Until today.
