C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment (22 page)

“Ah, come on man, Charlie said it was cool and if that’s not good enough I’m sure my good friend Mr. Franklin will be,” he said, pulling a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it into Miguel’s hand.

“All right then, go on in.” he said, moving out of the way pocketing the hundred.  Bass from some very loud techno music shook the floor as they entered.  Bright lights of various colors spun around the dance floor.

“How did you pull this off Buck?  You’re not eighteen yet,” Chris asked.

“I’m not?” Buck said, feigning shock.  “It’s all in who you know.  The guy behind the bar, Charlie Hammond, he used to run with my dad back in the old days.  Stop worrying so much Morris!  Let’s have some fun!” he said, dancing his way to the bar.

“Look a white MC Hammer!” Chris yelled above the music keeping his face stone cold serious. “
Stop!  Turner Time
!”  Jake burst out laughing. 

Donnie was already dancing on the floor with Diana.  Whisper sat alone at a table.

“Chris!” Jake yelled above the music.

“What?” he yelled back.

“Go entertain your lady.”  He motioned toward Whisper.  “Show her a good time.”

Chris gave Jake a nervous smile.  “I . . . Jake . . . I don’t know how to.  I don’t know how to talk to girls.”

Jake gripped his friend’s shoulder.  “Just think of what Han Solo would do.”

“What?  Be a complete dick?” Chris countered.

Jake laughed.  “Good point.  Okay then, just be yourself.  Try hitting those pool tables over there,” he motioned to several tables, with large lamps above them.  “Teach her how to shoot, show her a few moves, and for God’s sake let her win a few games.”  Chris pushed his glasses up on his nose and brushed his shaggy hair away from his eyes.  He looked as if he was preparing to take a final exam.  “Chris.  Relax,” Jake said, pushing him in Whisper’s direction.  “Go.  Have fun!”

Now that Jake was alone, his eyes began searching for Amber.  Sure enough, Buck had left her alone at a table not far from the bar.  Jake found the same inner courage he'd just tried to instill in Chris, and walked up to her.  His heart pounded almost as if in sync with the music.  “Hey Amber!”  he said, over the music.

“Hey Jake!” she smiled.  “What’s up?”

“Buck left you alone?” Jake asked sitting down across from her.

“Yeah, he went to get us a couple of drinks.  Said, a friend of his dad’s is the bartender,” Jake nodded, not sure what to say next.

“You wanna dance?” she asked loudly over the music.

“I . . . don’t really know how,” he said, nervously.

“Oh come on!  It’s easy, I’ll show you!” she grabbed him by the hand and led him to the dance floor.  Jake did his best to follow her movements.  His hands on her waist, her arms draped over his shoulders.  He followed her every move with his eyes.  It was almost like seeing her in slow motion.  The way her shirt clung to her breasts, the way her hips moved, the way her lips parted into a smile, the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him, the way her hair . . .
God you’re beautiful! 
He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear.  But all too soon, his moment was interrupted.  Buck was there with a beer in hand. 

“Scram Bishop.”  He handed the beer to Jake, then cut in.  It took everything Jake had not to punch him in the mouth, but Amber, for whatever reason, had made her choice.  And Jake knew he had to respect that.  He stood there for a few seconds just watching her body move before realizing he was staring and turned away.  For over two long years, he’d longed to hold her in his arms, to taste her lips, and just when he’d been managed one of those things, she’d been ripped away by of all people, Buck Turner.

Jake took a sip of the beer and cringed at the taste.  “Man that’s just awful.”  He’d never tasted beer before, had never had the opportunity.  He walked up to the bar and set the still full bottle down.  The bartender walked up.  “What can I get you?”

“A Dr. Pepper if you got it!” Jake yelled over the music.

“You got it my friend.  Say, are you John Bishop’s kid?” he asked.

“No,” Jake said, giving him a once over.

“Relax kid,” he said, with a slight chuckle.  “I’m not a Maker.  My name is Charlie Hammond.  I used to run with your old man back when I was a kid.  Best damn Hunter I ever knew.”

“That so?” Jake said, with a skeptical nod.  "What's his favorite tool of choice?"

Charlie without missing a beat said, "Well that depends.  Is he still a
Cleaner
by trade?"

"Sorry Charlie."  Jake relaxed.  "You know how it is."

"Don't sweat it kid, times are crazy.  You never can be too careful.  Why just a couple of years ago they found a bunch of charred bones outside of town.  Cops said it looked like they’d been ripped to pieces.  You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?"

"Like you said, times are crazy."  Jake smiled.  "Do you still hunt?"

“Me?  Nah, I lost my nerve after my first hunt and then lost a leg in Desert Storm.  Pretty much ended any future hunting plans.  Truthfully though, after what happened to Terry . . . I just couldn’t see doing it anymore. So I gave it up.  Now, I just make a few bucks where I can.”  He handed Jake his Dr. Pepper.

“Dad tried the same thing and it didn’t work out so well,” Jake said.  “They never came looking for you?”

“Me?  Nah.”  Charlie wiped at a spot on the bar.  “I didn’t have a known name like Bishop or Williams or Turner.  Hell I’d never even been on my first solo hunt yet!  I doubt they’d waste any time on a loser like me.”

“That’s good Charlie.  I’m glad you were able to get out.”  Jake reached into his pockets pulling out a ten.  “How much do I owe you?”

“Forget it kid.  It’s on the house.  Least I can do for the son of John Bishop.”

“Thanks,” Jake said, with a nod.  “Good to meet you Charlie.”

“You too . . . I didn’t catch your name.”

“Jake,” he said, reaching his hand across the bar.

“Good to meet you Jake,”  Charlie said, gripping his hand with both of his.  “Anything you need, just ask.  It’s on the house.”

“Can I get a drink down here?!”  A voice called from down the bar.

“Listen Jake I’ll talk to you later,” Charlie said, and then hobbled down to the end of the bar.

When he was out of sight Jake put the ten in the tip jar, then reached into his pocket, pulled out his last twenty, and put it in as well.  He couldn't help but think back to poor Marty White, one of his dad’s good friends and the lesson he'd learned about helping those that need it most.  Picking up his Dr. Pepper, he walked back over to the table where he and Amber had been sitting.

He’d been sitting there alone with just his thoughts for a good forty-five minutes when Diana came up dancing sexily around him.  She put her arms around his shoulders and softly whispered “Hi,” in his ear.

“Uh . . . hi,” Jake said, back.  “Where’s Donnie?”

“Donnie who?” she said, playfully.  “He’s over at the pool tables with Chris and Whisper.  Seems like my baby sister is really hitting it off with nerd boy.”

“Ah come on Diana.  Don’t call him that,” Jake said, seriously.

“I’m just joking Jake!” she laughed hysterically.  He could smell the stench of alcohol on her breath.  She’d been hitting the hard stuff.

"SOMEBODY SCREAM!" The DJ yelled out over the music.  Diana reared back and let loose a wild scream followed by hysterical giggling.

"I screamed!"  She yelled in Jake's ear still laughing unsteadily on her feet.  "Did you hear me scream?!"

“Yeah . . . I did" Jake said slowly.  "How much have you had to drink?” Jake asked, gently steadying her as she swayed to the left.

“Just a few shots.  And a beer, or two, or three,” she said.  "See that guy over there?"  She pointed to big hulk of a teenager in a San Angelo High Letterman jacket that was playing pool against Chris.  "He bought me a few rounds." 

Jake started to say something when Diana's soft lips pressed firmly against his neck sending a warm tingle throughout his body, her tongue rolled across his skin.  She climbed into his lap; her lips touched his for what seemed like an eternity before Jake reluctantly pulled away. 

“What?!” she said, angrily.  “What is it?  I’ve all but thrown myself at you!  Why don’t you want me?”

“Diana.  You’re drunk.”  For the briefest second his eyes strayed past hers to Amber, still dancing with Buck.  Diana followed his gaze.  “What?  Is it her?  Is
that
what you want?”  she asked pushing away from him.

“Diana, no it’s just . . .” he said, getting to his feet.

“Oh say no more!” she said, stumbling backwards.  “I see what’s going on here!  I thought you were a nice guy!  But your just . . . your just . . . your nothing but a big asshole!"

“Diana, please calm down,” Jake said, reaching out towards her.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

“Okay, okay,” Jake pulled his arms to his side looking around nervously.  Several guys were looking at him strangely, including one of the bouncers.  “I’m sorry okay.  Let’s just have a nice dance and maybe we can talk for a bit.” 

“Screw you Bishop!” she said, walking away.  “You could have had all of this!” she said, running her hands over her body.

I really, really hate teenage girls! 
Jake thought to himself as she walked over and put her arms around the guy playing Chris.  Donnie, who had been playing on the table next to Chris, walked up next to him, a pool cue in his hand.  “What’s up man?  What happened with Diana?  What did you say to her?”

“Me?  I . . . I didn’t say anything!” Jake said, getting defensive.  “She’s drunk!”

“Ah.  Say no more.”  Donnie nodded.  “She's had a thing for you for a while now.  You're nuts not to go after her."

"You're telling me!"  Jake said, remembering her lips on his neck.

"You know man; I know you've got a thing for my sister," Donnie said, as they both watched Diana make a fool of herself with the guy that had bought her drinks.  "And you know how I feel about her and Buck, but she's made her choice, you might as well move on.  Believe me you could do a lot worse than Diana."

"Yeah I know."  Jake lowered his head feeling like a real idiot.

"Yeah, anyway."  Donnie put his arm around Jake's shoulder.  "Come on buddy, Chris is playing that big-shot quarterback kid Diana’s messing around with.  Looks like he might make a few bucks tonight.  Let’s see if we can't do the same.  Maybe you can patch things up with Diana.”

Jake looked over at the pool tables, realizing for the first time how outnumbered Chris was. “You sure that’s a good idea?”  

Donnie downed the Budweiser in his hand then shrugged.  “If you don’t want to get with Diana it’s no sweat off my back.”

“No, genius, Chris!” Jake exclaimed.  “He’s outnumbered like four to one.”

“Oh . . . shit,” Donnie said taking in the situation for the first time.

“Is everyone drunk but me?” Jake asked.  “For crying out loud man, we’ve been here at most an hour!  Who’s going to drive us home?”

“You can.”  Donnie pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Jake.  “Now come on, let's go see if Chris needs some backup.”

“Too late!” Jake said, as the big kid in the letterman jacket tossed a Q-ball across the room before hefting Chris off his feet by his shirt.

“Shit!”  Donnie dropped his beer to the dance floor.  Jake was hot on his heels. 

Donnie shoved his way through the group, which quickly closed around them, leaving Jake on the outskirts of it. 

He tried to shove his way through but was pushed back by two other guys in letterman jackets.  When he finally managed to look through the crowd, he saw that Mr. Quarterback had a bloody nose and two of his giant friends were holding Whisper.  Both looked to be defensive linemen and had to weigh in at close to two hundred eighty pounds. 

Chris landed hard on the floor as Donnie finally made his way between them.  “Hey pal.  What’s the deal?” he said, trying not to sound too confrontational.  They were
way
too outnumbered to fight.

“The deal is this little nerd just cheated me out of two hundred bucks!  Now he’s about to get his ass kicked,” Quarterback said, wiping at his bloody nose.

“Yeah Phil, kick his ass!” his friends egged him on.  “Look at him!  I bet he’s pissing his pants!”

“I didn’t cheat anyone!” Chris yelled, picking himself off the floor.

“Let me go!” Whisper yelled. 

Diana came over and began pulling at the guys holding her sister.  "Come on Phil!  That's my sister.  Tell your guys to let them go."

"Shut up bitch!" Phil said, not taking his eyes off Donnie.  “This little half-breed bitch just broke my nose!  You think I'm going to just let her get away with that?!” 

Jake saw red, outnumbered or not, this guy needed to be taught a lesson in manners.  “Now there’s no need for that!” Donnie said, trying to diffuse the situation.  “Just let the girl go, you can keep your money and we’ll make our way to the door.”

“Shut up boy!” Phil said, getting even further into Donnie’s face. “This is my Dad’s place.  You think I’m going to let some little group of faggots like you come in here and cheat me out of two hundred bucks then let you walk away?!”

“Come on man.  Let’s just call it even and let all this go.”

“Tell you what . . . give me say two hundred.  No!  Three hundred bucks and I’ll let you walk out.”

Jake’s vision blurred.  He had to stop this.  Chris hadn't deserved to get hit like that.  It was more than clear he was no match for this guy.  He might be the best shot in the class, but in unarmed combat, he’d tasted the mat more than all of the others combined. 

Phil was just an oversized bully that needed to be taught a lesson.  Suddenly a voice erupted from him.  Jake didn’t even realize he was talking until the words were already out. “Who you calling faggots, you redneck piece of shit!”

Phil’s gaze moved from Donnie and fell on Jake.  The crowd parted like Moses splitting the red sea.  They were matched evenly in height, Phil standing just over six feet, but he outweighed Jake by about twenty pounds.  He approached Jake puffing his chest out and throwing his hands back.  “You want some of this too, bitch?  Huh?  You want an ass beating?”