Page 13 of Driftwood Daffodil

I just bet he did.

My glare snapped over to the head popping out through the open window.

“Hey,” Atlee lifted a wooden bat and pointed it at Darry, “no one gets handsy with my sister.”

Well I wasn’t entirely wrong. It might not be pussy in the typical sense, but it was still pussy. “Kendall can take care of herself.”

“And stop climbing out the window,” Darry added in a snarl. “There’s a fucking door for a reason.”

“Yeah,” Atlee nodded, “but it’s your door.”

I couldn’t argue his point. Last week I just touched Darry’s hood and one of the hubcaps popped off. It was the strangest fucking thing I’d ever seen and yet it wasn’t. If anyone I knew needed their own personal driver, it was Darry. That shit would probably save his life one day.

“And you,” the bat in Atlee’s hand swung in my direction. “You should be thanking me. Someone needs to protect your brother’s interests.”

“Romeo can handle his own shit.”

My brother was not happy about his future wife. Can’t say I blamed him. Kendall was supposed to marry our brother Atlas, until he was murdered.

Kato Ford would pay for that one day. In the meantime I was perfectly happy to watch him rot in prison, with the occasional beat down of course. Killing was too easy. I wanted that prick to suffer.

“That’s not what you said last week.” Atlee argued.

“That was different.”

Last week we weren’t talking about some chick. We were talking about the family. While Romeo was off doing his own thing, I’d dedicated my life to the mob. And who was going to get the throne? The brother I wished died instead.

“I mean,” Darry shrugged. “He is the oldest.”

“Atlas is the oldest!”

Or he was, until he was taken away.

Neither one of them said anything, because there wasn’t anything to say. Just like there was nothing we could do about it. We weren’t boss. We weren’t even made yet. Romeo took the oath when he was sixteen, and here I was, eighteen years-old with not even so much as an offer or job to enhance my position. It was bullshit.

“How about we just do this.” Darry said while looking over at me. “You ready?”

I shot him a dirty look. “I’ve been ready since ten o’clock.”

My annoyance was obvious, but they should’ve been here on time. I had better things to do than wait around.

“You, my friend, need to get laid.” Atlee piped in. “I know this cute little blonde…”

That was not one of the better things I had planned. “I don’t want your leftovers, Atlee.”

I just wanted to get this shit over with and get on with my night.

“You sure?” Atlee asked. “Because I’m seriously starting to worry about your dick.”

“My dick’s fine.”

That wasn’t entirely true. My dick was bored as fuck. All I had to do was snap my fingers and some bitch would drop and open her mouth. It was too easy. Was it too much to ask for a little fight, or a snide comment?

Fuck at this point I’d take a dirty look. Anything that would give me a reason to take her over my knee, and not because she was playing a game. I was tired of the fake crap. I wanted something real.

Someone who would give back just as good as they got. I wanted a woman, not some demure, submissive bitch that did whatever I wanted because of who I was. The last place I’d find that was with Atlee’s leftovers.

“Whatever.” Atlee pushed his fingers through his dark hair. “But I think you should least let her suck your dick?”

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