The Resurrection (Unlawful Men)
“I’ll ref,” Brad declares, swiping up the bottle and pointing it toward the beach as they wander off toward the path. Esther is edgy, Rose is now looking furious, as Beau pours her some wine and holds it up. Rose, distracted, grabs the glass and takes it to her lips.
Pauses.
“Stop!” Beau yells. “Shit, what the hell am I doing?” She confiscates the glass and takes it to her own mouth.
Pauses.
Pouts.
“Well, if you two won’t . . .” Goldie sings, claiming the wine. “Anyone got any popcorn?”
“Do you think you should go?” Beau asks me, looking as nervous as her friend and Esther.
“Nope,” I say over a laugh. “Let them hash it out.”
“Oh God,” Esther cries, making grabby hands for the bottle in the middle. Otto and Danny disappear through the opening in the wall that leads to the beach, and Esther is quickly up from her chair. “I can’t just let them kill each other.” She flies off across the restaurant, and Rose is soon following quickly.
Me? I take my time getting up and put my hand out to Beau. “Some comedy with your evening meal, madam?” I ask as she laughs her way to her feet.
We leave Goldie and Ringo at the table and head for the wall, and when the beach down below comes into view, I see Danny and Otto walking a slow circle, their sleeves now rolled up. “Who’s odds-on favorite?” Beau asks, sitting on the wall and swinging her legs around to dangle.
“Depends if they play fair.” I move in behind her and drape my hands over her shoulders, smiling when she holds them. Danny’s the first to swing, and boy does he swing, delivering an ear-splitting crack to Otto’s jaw, sending him flying back to his arse. Then he dives on him, and they start to roll and wrestle around on the sand, grunting, punching, yelling. They’re going to be here awhile. “Come on.” I pull Beau up, seeing Brad leading Esther and Rose back to the table, obviously reaching the same conclusion as I did. Leave them. They won’t kill each other.
We all sit down, order food, and everyone falls into conversation.
I smile, relax back, and enjoy the company, but I take the most pleasure from watching Beau talk happily with the girls, every now and then looking at me, as if checking I’m still here. Always. I hold her hand on my lap, smiling as I take a sip of vodka, and cast my eyes around the table. I ordered an army, and I got one.
And as fucked up and unexpected as it is, I’ve also got myself a family.
By the time starters arrive, Danny and Otto are back from their brawl on the beach, each of them disheveled, Danny wiping blood from his lip, Otto from his nose. Everyone remains silent as they sit, take a drink, and start tucking into their seafood. Not a word spoken.
I think it’s out of Danny’s system, at least for tonight.
Once the table’s cleared, we all decide to take our after-dinner drinks at the bar down the beach so we catch the end of Zinnea’s performance. We make it in time for her last song, and while the men order drinks, the women file onto the dance floor and cheer her on. And of course, they demand an encore when she’s done.
My mouth falls open when she breaks into Gangster’s Paradise, and Danny starts chuckling, Brad spits his drink out, and Ringo and Goldie, for the first time ever, laugh their heads off. We settle at a nearby table, the men alone, and it’s weird. Usually, with no women, we’d be strategizing. Plotting. Figuring shit out. Lining up the next kill. Instead, we’re all just sitting here, mute, but I guarantee we’re all enjoying the silence.
Until Danny’s phone rings. I don’t like his frown, and I don’t like the lift of his eyes to find me. “Who?” Brad asks, as Danny clicks answer and sets it on the table, prompting us all to lean in.
“I’m truly injured you thought that piece of power-tripping shit Adams was me.” He laughs, and my cheeks blow out, my body moving back in the chair. “He was useful for a time.”
What. The. Fuck.
I look at Danny and see shock. I’ve never seen shock on him. His fists are balling, and as I look at my hands, I see two white rocks, the blood gone from my fists.