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“Hold up,” Duck inserts. “Are we gonna need a drink for this?”
“Probably,” I mutter. “Although there’s not enough alcohol in the world that can make it make sense.”
While I was talking to Kennedy in front of Barlow’s, her proposition lit a fire inside of me, but now that I’ve got some distance, I can’t help but wonder what the fuck I’m doing.
“Jesus, this can’t be good,” Duck gripes and looks at Little Man. “Pour us all something strong, prospect.”
Little Man goes about following orders and after he sets three drinks on the bar, he makes himself scarce.
“Spill,” Snow demands.
“Kennedy came outside after you two left,” I say.
“Okay. Did you ask her out?” Duck asks.
“Not exactly.”
“What’d she want? Is there a problem with the new partnership already?”
“No, nothing like that.”
In unison, the three of us lift our glasses and gulp down the liquor.
“Then what the hell is it, brother?” Duck barks. “You’re draggin’ this out, and I gotta say, it’s annoying as fuck.”
Why is this so hard?
“She propositioned me,” I spit out.
“Propositioned you?” Snow asks slowly. “Like for sex?”
“Among other things.”
“Holy shit!” Duck grins. “What the hell is the problem then? You like the girl, she wants to bang you… seems like a win-win to me.”
Snow slaps Duck on the back. “Slow your roll, VP. He said, ‘among other things’.” Prez slides his gaze to me. “What are theother things?”
I take a deep breath and try to formulate the words. “She asked me to teach her how to live.”
Duck rears back, his eyes comically wide. “What the shit does that mean? Bitch don’t know how to breathe?”
Hearing him call Kennedy a bitch snaps something inside of me. I lunge across the bar at my VP, knocking our empty glasses to the floor, and we collapse in a heap of testosterone.
“Call her that again, and I’ll knock your goddamn teeth down your throat,” I snarl, my hand around Duck’s throat.
“Dip!” Snow shouts. “That’s enough!”
My chest heaves with fury as I shove off of Duck and rise to my feet. He remains on his back for a moment, staring at me in disbelief, and guilt envelopes me. I’m normally not a hothead, and he didn’t do or say anything any one of us hasn’t done or said, but apparently, Kennedy is my kryptonite.
I extend a hand to help him up, and Duck takes it. After I haul him to his feet, I slap him on the back.
“Sorry, VP.”
Duck narrows his eyes at me and scowls. “I’ll let it slide this time, but do that again, and the next vote we’ll have in church is whether or not to strip your patch,” he seethes. “Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Now that the pissing match is over,” Snow begins. “I’d really like to hear more about this proposition Kennedy made.”
