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“You’re a good brother, Luc. If I haven’t told you that enough, I’m sorry. You’re a damn fine brother, and I’m proud of the man you’ve become.” Luc looked at Pierre and smiled.
“I probably haven’t told you enough what a great big brother you are. You were always my idol, Pierre. Always. I wanted to be just like you and Gaspar. Thank you for being such great examples of good men.”
“There were times we weren’t always good,” frowned Miller.
They made their way up and down the aisles, finally finding the one that they needed. The one with screaming little girls and harried mothers trying to control them.
“Fuck me,” muttered Luc. “Can we go back in the field?”
“I think we are back in the field,” growled Miller.
There was a desperate-looking manager coming toward them with a box of the dolls. They allowed the little girls in the aisle to grab one each, then looked down at the box to see only two.
“Is that all you have?” asked Luc.
“Buddy, I’m exhausted. If you want this doll, you need to grab them now, or they’ll be gone.” Miller took the two dolls and tucked them beneath his arms.
“You have more in the back?”
“Look, I can only put out so many a day,” he said, shaking his head.
“So, you do have more in the back? How many?” asked Miller.
“Another four dozen,” he said. “But I can’t put out more until tomorrow.”
“It’s tomorrow. I need five more.”
“Buddy…”
“Don’t, son. Don’t piss me off. Get the dolls, and we’ll be out of your hair. You’ll have your biggest sale day in company history because we’re buying all the matching shit with it.”
That got the man’s attention. Nodding, he went to the back and brought out the additional dolls, then pointed to all the items that matched them.
With his shelves empty, at least for the night, he would be able to restock in the morning and maybe get home in time for a late-night dinner with his wife.
“I think that was more than my first paycheck,” whispered Luc.
“Yea, but it’s done. Text the others that we have them all.”
Carrying the seven large bags to the truck, Miller had that feeling at the back of his neck. He nudged his brother and saw the imperceptible nod. He opened the lock box on the truck, tossed the bags inside, then swiftly turned to see two young men with knives.
“Hand over the bags and your wallets, old man,” said the kid.
“Son, you do not want to do this,” said Miller, giving a dangerous look of warning.
“I will cut you!”
“With that?” laughed Luc. “No. No, no, you can’t cut someone with that. Now, this you can cut someone with.” He pushed back his jacket, revealing the long buck knife at his hip and the nine-millimeter automatic pistol.
“Let me tell you how this is gonna go,” said Miller. “You’re gonna drop those knives, turn, and run. If you don’t, I will send you home in a box of coal so your mommy and daddy know exactly what a piece of shit you both are.”
There wasn’t even a second thought given. The two young men dropped the knives and ran for their lives. Miller bent down, picking up the dull steak knives, shaking his head.
“Let’s go home,” said Luc. “We still have more to buy, and this shit is exhausting.”
“Yea, but the day is looking up. I almost got to shoot someone.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
