Page 5 of Soft Tissue Damage
Leon heard that just as clearly as I did, and he’s going to do nothing about it? Is he serious? If she were my woman, I would have been out of my seat at the first snigger.
Elena finally gets an order for two cheeseburgers out of the men and walks over to the kitchen with a red face and hurt, angry eyes.
I look at my son. I glare at him for so long that he gives me a confused look. “What?”
“I know you heard that.”
For a moment he’s still puzzled, and then he glances at the table behind me. “Those men? Elena says she gets that all the time. They’re harmless, but she has to humor them for tips.”
“Oh, for tips? That’s all right then.” It’s not fucking all right. I turn around in my seat.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
I’m doing what my son should be doing. I flick the man closest to me on the back of his head.
He twists in his seat and glares at me. “Can I help you?”
I give him my most charming smile. “I sure hope so. I’m politely asking you and your friend to leave that lady a good tip, and then fuck off. And it had better be the kind of tip that tells a woman you’re sorry for talking to her like she’s a piece of meat.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Why should we?”
I hold up my hands. “Hey, I’m leaving it up to you. It’s a suggestion.”
“Yeah, whatever. Go fuck yourself, buddy.” He starts to turn back to his friend.
“Sure, your choice.” I nod at Mercer. “But my friend and I have an hour to spare for a couple of assholes who ignore this suggestion.”
Mercer has his arms resting on the back of his booth and he’s wearing the least friendly expression I think I’ve ever seen as he glares at the men.
“I have a couple of baseball bats in the back of my truck,” I continue conversationally. “There are a lot of lights burned out in that parking lot, and it will be pitch black when you walk to your vehicles. If brains get spattered on the concrete, I doubt that anyone will notice until they step in them.”
Please. Give me a fucking reason.
My son coughs nervously. “Dad, what are you—”
I hold up a hand, and Leon falls silent. “Unless you gentlemen would like to leave first, like I already asked.”
The two men exchange glances, and then both reach for their wallets. They put bills on the table that cover their burgers and Elena’s tip, then head for the door, shooting me looks like they think I’m crazy.
That’s better. I settle back against the seat knowing Elena won’t have to see their faces again tonight.
“And that’s how you do it,” Mercer says to my son.
“I’m supposed to threaten anyone who makes a dumb joke to my girlfriend?”
“You’re supposed to dosomething,” I tell Leon. “You think a woman gets a good feeling when she sees you letting other men treat her like a piece of ass?”
“Elena knows how to look after herself,” Leon mutters, staring into his lap. “I’m not really into picking fights and causing scenes.”
No, he’s more into books and numbers, and that’s fine. I don’t expect him to get his knuckles bloody, but men calling out other men when they’re out of line should be normal. I can’t stand it when I see men sitting there while a woman is dying silently on the inside with no one in her corner.
“What scene?” Mercer asks, gesturing around. “Do you see blood anywhere? Did your father raise his voice? Cullan was very fucking reasonable. Do you want to know what I did to an idiot who splashed my sister with puddle water because he thought it was funny?”
“What did you do?”
In the past, I would have shot Mercer a look that told him to shut his mouth around my son, but Leon is twenty-one. He’s old enough to hear this.
“I made him eat his ear.”
