Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

“Your family business is a bar,” Derek said with a snarl. “It’s a trashy, piece-of-shit occupation that no sane person would stay in for any length of time.”

“As opposed to your family business? In what universe does defending the guiltiest scumbags of the world, who only get off because they have more money than God, make you a better person than me?”

Derek laughed. “In every universe. Especially this one. Ask anyone which job they think is the more respectable one—lawyer or bartender. Lawyer wins ten times out of ten, and you know it. People look up to me. They look down on you.”

Ryan shook his head. “I bring joy to people’s lives, Derek. You bring pain. I help people, but you hurt them. I go to sleep with a clear conscience. I can’t imagine you doing the same.”

“Matson’s not yours!” Derek yelled, his tone and demeanor shifting quicker than the weather.

“Lower your voice!” I pleaded.

“Why?” Derek’s lip curled and he turned to yell toward the playground. “Hey, Matson! Do you know who I am, son?”

Matson’s head turned toward us, his eyes wide and confused.

Ryan stepped closer to Derek. “Don’t call him son.”

Thank God he could get the words out before I could. I was too busy watching in horror as Matson ran in our direction.

Before I could stop him, Matson was at my side, staring at Derek. “Did you call my name?”

“Do you know who I am?”

Derek’s tone sounded menacing instead of kind, and Matson reacted by edging behind Ryan and wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist for protection. Ryan reached back and patted Matson’s shoulder, reassuring my son that he would handle things and it would all be okay.

“I think you should leave,” Ryan said, never taking his eyes from Derek’s infuriated gaze.

“I’ll be back.” Derek pointed at me before trying to make eye contact with Matson, who had squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into Ryan’s back. “See you later, son,” he said before stalking away.

I knelt next to Matson and tried to pull his arms from Ryan’s waist, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Is he gone?” Matson asked, holding on even tighter.

“He’s gone,” I said as calmly as I could, even though I was unraveling on the inside.

“Who was that man, Mama?” Matson’s eyes met mine, and I didn’t know what to tell him.

Ryan maneuvered his body so that Matson released his grip and he could kneel down with us. “He’s someone your mom used to know. A long time ago,” he said slowly, and I was so grateful in that moment for the help.

“Like when you were in third grade like me?” Matson’s head tilted back as he looked up at me.

“Not that little, but still littler than now.”

“Oh,” he said as if it all made sense. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” Ryan grinned. “Pizza or In-N-Out?”

“Pizza!” Matson shouted, and the somber mood instantly shifted.

“I know the perfect place,” Ryan said, and reached for Matson’s hand.

As we all walked to the car, I looked at Ryan and mouthed thank you as I fought back tears.

How could I have ever thought that Ryan would be a bad role model for my son? How could I have ever thought that he wouldn’t be good enough for us?

Threats and Promises

Ryan