I trudge toward the entrance, the classic rock music growing louder. Fuck. This is no place for an angel. No place at all. Fucking Murder. What the hell was he thinking tasking me with brat duty? This is some shit one of his muffler bunnies should be handling. What the hell am I supposed to do with her? I know shit all about taking care of a kid.
Here we fucking go. I push the heavy metal door open, the classic rock of Lynyrd Skynyrd filtering through and blasting me right in the damn face along with a cloud of smoke. I scan the room and the festivities haven’t started. My brothers are sitting around drinking and playing pool. A few hangarounds are on hand but nothing provocative is happening yet. I check my watch. The night is still young.
“Hey handsome,” Mariah purrs, licking her lips and rubbing up on my right side, her fake tits spilling out of her neon green tube top. I’m in no mood for her and the bullshit she brings with her. Woman is nothing but pure drama. Catty and clingy as hell. Two things I don’t want or need.
I push her off. “Not now.”
“Shit.” She notices my shadow. “Didn’t know you had a kid, East.”
“I don’t.”
“Wait—you aren’t into some sick shit, are you?”
My brow furrows and I ball my fist. “Fuck you for even saying some shit like that, you fuckin’ dumb cunt.” I shove past the bitch as she flips her stringy bleach blonde hair with dark roots and go to the bar. I stick Wylla Mae on a stool. “Get her a Sprite,” I yell over the noise to Slater.
He gives me a chin lift, grabs a can from the cooler, and slides it down the bar. I pop the tab. “Don’t drink nothing or eat a damn thing unless I give it to you directly. No one here would hurt you but shit happens, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. Understood?”
Her doe eyes gaze up at me. She doesn’t say anything but accepts the pop and chugs.
“You hungry?”
“Uh huh.”
“Come on. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.” She slides down the stool and curls into my side where I keep her pressed until we get there. It’s only a matter of time before shit starts to get wild around here. The kitchen door swings open and Pam stands on the other side.
“What are you up to?” She raises her arms over her head, securing her dark curly hair in a ponytail, revealing the skull and roses tatted on her left hip.
“This is Wylla Mae, my charge for the evening. Whatchu’ got good, fast, and hot?”
“I’d tell you but it’s not appropriate for small ears.” Her laughter rings out.
I shake my head. I walked straight into that one.
“Stick this in the fridge will ya.” I dig the medicine out and toss the bottle her way.
“Aw, sweetie, are you sick?”
Wylla Mae sniffles and wipes at her nose reminding me that I need to wash that face. While Pam gets the medicine in the fridge and questions the kid about what she wants to eat I grab some paper towels and wet them.
“C’mere, Lil’ Lady.” I grip the back of her head with one hand and use my other to clean her face. She scrunches her nose and squirms, twisting from side to side doing her best to avoid the wet end of the paper towel. “There. Good as new.” I turn toward Pam and toss the paper towels in the trash. “You busy tonight?”
Her finger wags in my face. “Oh no, you aren’t putting your job off on me. It’s Friday night.”
“Come on. You know I don’t know shit about taking care of a sick kid.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Feed her. Give her water and the pink stuff as directed.” She smirks.
“I’ll owe you one.”
“Hmm.” Her black painted nail taps against her chin. “You’d owe me more than one.”
“I wanna stay with you, East,” Wylla Mae shouts and barrels into my side, surprising the fuck outta me.
“You heard the lady.” Pam winks at her and slides a grilled cheese sandwich onto a paper plate. “See you later, daddy.” She cackles going out the door, leaving me on my own with Wylla Mae.
Fucking great.
I cup the back of my neck and look down at the little girl. “How old are you anyway, kid?”