Page 8 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

Marcus stands over him with a fist. “Watch your goddamn mouth before I knock the rest of your teeth down your throat.”

“Don’t come back. You’re banned,” Josh adds.

“Paul won’t ban me. I’m one of his best customers.”

“Not anymore. Get the fuck off the property before I call the cops and have you arrested for assaulting an employee.” Josh points down the road.

He and Marcus stand in the doorway like a couple of bouncers as the man makes his way to his car. Neither of them moves until the taillights fade down the highway.

“Hey, man. Name’s Josh. Sorry about manhandling you back there. I didn’t know what the fuck had happened.” Josh extends his hand.

Marcus shakes it. “No worries. I’d have done the same. I’m Marcus, a friend of Brandy.” His eyes find mine. “You okay, babe?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Just glad you both were here.”

Josh nods to Marcus. “Glad he was up here to step in.” He lifts his chin toward the road. “That loser’s been nothing but trouble since his wife left him. Good riddance.”

“Hopefully, he won’t be back.” Marcus folds his arms.

“He comes back, I’ll make sure Paul knows to run him off.” He glances at me. “He pay his tab?”

“I’ve got his credit card.”

“Good.”

“He just didn’t sign.”

“Doesn’t need to. We’ll run it through, anyway. People walk off on that shit all the time. It’s the reason we start a tab.” Josh heads inside, and Marcus and I follow. “I’ve got to finish up counting the delivery. Why don’t you two take off? I’ll close up when I’m done.”

I frown. “You sure? I haven’t even counted the till yet.”

“Don’t worry about it. After that asshole, you deserve to go on home.”

“Thanks, Josh.”

“No problem, kid. Makes me feel better knowing someone’s headed out with you.” His eyes flick to Marcus. “Good to meet you, man. Come back anytime.”

Marcus lifts his chin. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of me.”

“Thanks, Josh.” I watch his retreating figure, then turn to Marcus. “Thank you for what you did.”

“No thanks necessary. You sure you’re okay?” He takes my hand, his brow furrowed, his eyes studying me carefully.

His concern warms something inside me. “I’m fine. Nothing a greasy burger can’t fix.” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “That I can fix.”

I like the way it feels in his, the way he holds mine firmly but gently. He pulls the door open and leads me outside. I point at my vehicle.

His head turns to look over his shoulder, following where I gesture to my truck. His eyes roam over it. “This yours?”

I get that a lot. It’s an unexpected choice for a woman to drive, but I’ve always had a thing for red pickups, especially old ones like this one. “It is.”

“Nice.” He walks to it, dropping my hand and shoving both his in his hip pockets as he circles the truck. He peers inside and whistles. “Four on the floor. I like it.”

“Thanks.” I twirl the keys. “Want to drive it?”

“Hell yes.”

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