Order (Tattoos and Ties 2)

When the car settled on the pavement, his father unlatched the passenger side door. Keyes whipped his head that direction. There were maybe ten feet and that damn door separating him from his old man.

“Don’t you get out of that fuckin’ truck, old man,” he warned.

From the side mirror, he watched his father remove the oxygen tube from his nose and an arm shoved the door open wider with a dirty jean-clad leg following. His father’s work boot hit the pavement as he lifted his middle finger at Keyes. “What you gonna do, fuckin’ queer?”

Keyes saw red. Lost to the burst of anger, he went straight for his old man even as he heard Hound scurrying around the back of the truck. “I got it, bro. Key, stay back.”

The hate they had for one another was legendary. His father had been viciously cruel to him for as long as he could remember, but when he had found out about Keyes’s sexual preferences, shit became unbearable. His father’s deep-seated contempt for him caused problems throughout every layer of the motorcycle club. Keyes was done being so damned disrespected.

“You ain’t shit. What you gonna do? Every time anything happens, you coward away,” his father snarled, stepping fully out of the truck. “This is my business, and I’m takin’ it back. Nobody’s gonna wanna do business here if they find out you’re a fuckin’ queer.”

Not the first time he and his old man would come to blows. His whole life, he’d been nothing more than his father’s regular punching bag. Not once had Keyes ever truly fought back, until now. He been tortured, abused, and humiliated at this man’s hand for far too many years. Keyes stalked forward, remembering this scum’s hate-filled text messages that had almost caused him to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Against the fire brewing inside him, Keyes’s balled fists relaxed as he barreled down on his old man. He was skin and bones, looked sickly as hell and shaky on his feet. Yeah, there was something really wrong with the man. His dire health kept Keyes’s fist from making contact, but that was it. As his father got into fight mode, he took a swing. Keyes ducked and dodged the hit as he reached out for his father, manhandling him back inside the truck. He wasn’t careful as he shoved his old man through the open door with Hound on his ass, trying to grab him from behind.

“Get the fuck off me, Hound,” he growled, easily breaking any hold Hound managed as he reached for the door, slamming it shut on his loudly cursing father.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” Keyes warned his old man. His jaw clenched tightly closed, the need to level this hateful man eating at him. The finger he pointed at his old man curled into his fist again. It would be so easy to knock the son of a bitch out right where he sat.

His father started beating up the interior of the truck, his breathing labored, but he didn’t open the door again. “You’re the fuckin’ embarrassment of my life.”

That was it. Fuck frail. He wasn’t going to let his father die without cold-cocking him at least once. Keyes again started for his father, but he should have known better. He got within range and his father spit at him. A thick wet wad landed on his chest. Keyes leaped for the truck, but Hound bravely, if not stupidly, slid between the two of them. His big hands landed on Keyes’s chest.

“Let it go, Key. It’s not worth it. Everybody’s watchin’.”

He didn’t fucking care who watched, let Jesus Christ himself watch him make that sorry old man eat his words. The exertion proved too much for his father as he collapsed into a horrible coughing fit, which helped Keyes clear his single-minded tunnel vision bent on destruction. He looked over to see his customers and employees staring at the tow truck. Thank God they couldn’t get the full visual.

Keyes took a mental step back.

“See? Fuckin’ coward,” his father managed to say between bouts of coughing.

Keyes followed the mental step with a physical step backward. He turned away, the tic in his jaw double-timing in his anger. He rolled the T-shirt from the hem up until he covered the spit wad, then pulled his shirt over his head. Keyes didn’t look back as he started for the shop and the change of clothes he kept in the back office.

No one said a word as he stalked up the steps and disappeared inside.

Alec followed the sidewalk leading to the entrance of Gloria’s. The food smelled amazing, and as he made his way through the outside seating area toward the front doors of the restaurant, he spotted several delicious looking dishes on the tables as he approached the hostess stand. He waited in line for his turn to be seated and grabbed a menu, giving it a quick glance. Like he found himself doing all the time, he easily ticked off several appetizers he wanted to try then rescanned the selections, picking the ones he thought Key might like. He wished there was a way to place a to-go order and have it delivered to Key. He just wasn’t sure how to make it happen without leaving, at the very least, a paper trail leading back to him.