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“When we went back to the van about ten guys had us blocked in.”
“Did they now?” Red set down his utensils.
The excitement shifted to worry on Roadkill’s face.
“Yeah, Spike,” Mountain said hoping the name would register with the man who just nodded to continue. “He wanted to send a message.”
“Through you.” The hard glare of disrespect was easily conveyed.
“Yeah, and his words and actions told me he knew he was stepping on a line.”
“What were those?” Red asked.
“Threatened Amber, called me prospect and grabbed my cut.”
Red leaned back as the room cooled. “Grabbed?”
“Thought he’d stress his point by snatching at my lapel,” Mountain replied shifting a bit in his jacket. “His wrist might be a bit sore for a few days. I’ve been told I don’t brush people’s hands off with the gentlest of touches.”
“We’ll deal with that part. Is Amber safe? The kids?” Red asked.
“For now, he just wants to get his next order of guns sooner rather than later.”
“Might need to pull back the long handled spoon I’ve been using with them. I’ll take it to church.”
Mountain bit into the roast Amber made and was shocked by the flavor. Rich and savory with just the right amount of salt to trip off his senses. The potatoes were next, finding them infused by the meat he was looking forward to the carrots. Soft, but not mushy when he stabbed it with his fork.
“Carrot,” Harlow said with perfect pronunciation and claps. “Carrot.”
“That’s Mountain’s carrot,” Roadkill said as she passed the little girl a small bowl with peas.
“No, carrot.” Her face scrunched up in disgust at the green peas, her little eyebrows furrowing. “Carrot, Tin, carrot. Peesess.”
“How am I supposed to say no to that?”
“Easily,” Red countered, though his face betrayed his words. “Eat your peas, Harlow.”
“Tin, carrot.”
When Harlow’s bottom lip poked out he couldn’t take it and he wanted to dump the whole bowl of food on her tray. Instead, he found the five carrots in his container and placed them on the tray. “What? I can’t,” he said as Red shook his head.
“This child needs to stop hanging out with Mayhem, that little girl is teaching ours the art of manipulation,” Red stated and Harlow had a carrot surrounded by each of her hands and was two fisting her feast.
“Right, that’s who’s teaching her,” Roadkill replied sarcastically. “Not all the uncles willing to drop everything and run for her. Thank you Mountain, you really didn’t have to share.”
“Tanks, Tin.” Harlow beamed.
“One other thing,” Mountain said as he continued eating his roast and potatoes. “Can you find time tomorrow morning to interview Amber? I told her to come over, I’d show her the town.”
“Can I do it now?” Roadkill pleaded. “Please, please.”
“You’re right,” Red said circling his fork at his wife. “It’s not Mayhem teaching her how to manipulate men.”
“You couldn’t mean me? I’m hurt.” Roadkill laughed holding her hand to her chest in mock insult. “As if I could ever influence you in any way.”
“Fine do it, get it all out of your system,” Red said.
Mountain was beginning to wonder if he should head out because there was a layer to this conversation he wasn’t a part of.
