Page 17 of Denim & Diamonds

“How can I go somewhere else when you took my car keys?”

“You have two damn legs.Walk.”

“Can I at least have my phone back?”

“Will you leave if I give you your phone?”

“Absolutely.”

Brock took a deep breath and blew it out. The kid was trying his patience. He turned to me. “Any chance you found a phone? I took this little shit’s cell because he got suspendedagain. But I can’t find it anywhere. I think I might’ve left it in the flannel I gave you last night.”

I felt all the color from my face drain. “It…it wasn’t your phone?”

“No. It’s my dipshit little brother’s.”

I swallowed. “Your brother?”

He nodded.

“I, uh…” I took the phone from my back pocket and held it out hesitantly. “Is this it?”

The kid swiped it from my hand. “Thanks! Gotta go.”

My head was still reeling as I watched him jog from the bar. I hadn’t been looking at pictures ofBrock’sdick? I’d been looking at hisseventeen-year-oldbrother? His little brother usedthe BuzzBuddy app?

Oh God.

“You okay, Red?”

I covered my face with my hands. “Not really.”

“What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “I’m mortified to even tell you.”

“Shit.” He chuckled. “This sounds good.”

I still had my face covered, so I spread two of my fingers and peeked out. “If I tell you, you have to promise you willnottorture me about it.”

“Not sure I can do that until I hear what it is.”

I sighed. “I peeked in your phone—at least I thought it was your phone until two minutes ago.”

“Okay…”

“I hate to tell you this, but your little brother has someinterestingapps on there.”

“Oh, I know.” He shook his head. “Freaking BuzzBuddy. The little peckerhead got suspended because of the damn thing. He was using it on some girl while they were in school, and one of the teachers heard the humming. That’s why I took his phone and his car away. Our mother, God rest her soul, would’ve chopped off his balls for having shit like that.”

My heart squeezed. I hadn’t known he’d lost his mother. “I’m sorry. Your brother is so young to not have a mom.”

Brock nodded. “Art is the youngest. My mom had six boys.”

“Who does he live with?”

“My aunt. That’s what my mom wanted. But my brothers and I all keep an eye on him and help out.” Brock gestured to the booths on the other side of the bar. “You up for another drink? Maybe we can go sit over there for a while?”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

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