Battle

“Killer fuckin’ headache,” he grumbles.

“There’s a cure for that, dummy … Less drinkin’,” Battle says and laughs.

I laugh too. A solid hangover explains his quiet state this morning.

“That ain’t happenin’,” Austin says. "I need a Bloody Mary. Works every time.”

“Do you have mix?” I ask, preparing to volunteer my bartender services. During college, I worked for a catering company and spent many nights assigned to the cash bar at various events.

Battle and Austin bust out laughing. Insecurely, I think they’re laughing at the thought of me mixing drinks, but Battle opens a cabinet on the far side of the kitchen that stretches floor to ceiling. It’s stocked full of alcohol and mixers. I should have figured.

I laugh and say, “Coop may have a drinkin’ problem. Have y’all considered an intervention?”

“He’s beyond help,” Battle jokes.

I go about making Bloody Mary’s while Battle and Austin talk rankings and points needed at the table. When I’m done mixing, I find the rest of what I need in the fridge. I put one celery stalk, one sliced pickle and three green olives in the glass.

“What the fuck is this?” Austin asks when I set the glass in front of him. He’s looking at it like it’s toxic.

“Just drink it,” Battle says. “And say thank you.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to drink salad?” Austin asks. I shove him in the arm, and then slide in the booth next to Battle. “All right, all right.” He smells it before he takes a swallow. “Damn, woman. That’s fuckin’ good shit.”

“Thank you. I think,” I laugh softly.

He tips the glass back, draining the contents, and then eats the salad.

The motorhome comes to a stop. Cooper enters from the front and goes out the side door. I confirm we’ve arrived at Tucker’s when Austin and Battle lock eyes. Something else went on with Tucker and Battle. I can feel it.

“You good with this?” Austin asks him.

Battle answers with a silent nod.

The door opens with Cooper first and Tucker right behind him. They enter the room, and the air buzzes with tension. Tucker’s eyes move from Battle to me several times as though he’s trying to make a connection.

Austin stands. “Hey, long time no see. I missed ya, brother.”

“You, too man,” Tucker says. “It feels good to be back.”

They share a man hug before the room quiets again. Tucker moves his gaze to Battle.

“Tuck,” Battle says, tipping his head.

“Battle,” Tucker replies, his voice cold enough to freeze the room.

The hostility in the air makes me squirm, drawing Tucker’s attention. “And who’s this beautiful lady?”

Before I can answer, Battle wraps his arm around my shoulders and brings me close to him. “She’s mine.”

I don’t care what went down between them, I don’t appreciate Battle treating me like property. The hard stare I send him makes him release me.

“I’m Faye Callahan,” I say and extend my hand.

My eyes widen when instead of shaking my hand, Tucker bends over and kisses it. He continues to hold my hand, his big brown eyes finding mine. “Well I can’t say much for your taste in men, but it’s a pleasure to meet you, Faye.”

Battle stiffens, his teeth grinding together. Cooper slides next to the booth in front of Tucker. I’m sure preparing for a fight.

I rip my hand from Tucker’s. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure meetin’ you as well, but a compliment delivered with a dig just doesn’t seem genuine.”