Bad Cruz(75)

“Call her leftovers.”

Punch. Punch. Punch.

Rob’s entire face was bloodied, but he still managed to throw a hook straight into my eye socket when I wasn’t expecting it. I tripped a few steps, Wyatt’s arms catching me before I bounced back and went for Robert’s full destruction.

Tim and Kyle pulled Robert away, breaking us up.

“Holy shit, Cruz. What the fuck?!” Wyatt boomed, pushing me violently toward the door, his expression roaring, his lips still glittering with a stranger’s watermelon lip gloss.

Rob, Kyle, and Tim stayed behind. We spilled out to the humid summer night, and I blew out air, my body buzzing with violence.

“He’s a son of a—gun.”

“He was one of your best friends.” Wyatt pointed at the door to the club.

The two bouncers outside looked at us like we were guests on Jerry Springer—when the baby daddy who impregnated five women in a span of three days just walked in to hear his paternity results.

“What’s happening to you, brother? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you got cozy with the other Turner girl. I didn’t say shit because I figured you’d drop her after the cruise, but Jesus Christ, this is getting to be too much.”

“Too much what?” I challenged him, arching a brow.

“Too much trouble for someone like her.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “You’re marrying her sister.”

“Her sister’s different. Trinity’s harmless. A church mouse.”

“Well, Tennessee is all venom and honey. Dangerous but irresistible. She’s better than Trinity. Better than all of them.”

“In the sack, maybe. But—”

I grabbed the hem of his shirt, no longer giving any damn about my precious reputation.

I pressed my nose against his. “Don’t. This is the last time you talk about her like that, got it? Next time, your face will be the shape of my fist.”

“Wow. Okay.” He pushed me away, taking a few steps back. He turned around and kicked a trash can, pouring its contents onto the sidewalk. “Goddammit!”

He paced back and forth.

Robert, Kyle, and Tim trickled out of the club, sweaty and disoriented.

Rob looked at me with murder in his eyes, pointing a finger to my face. “I’m not getting into a car with this psycho.”

“Better get a head start if you want to make it home by morning. West’s that direction, in case your drunk ass needs a map.” I spun the keys on my index finger, starting toward Wyatt’s car.

They all trailed behind me, Robert included. Wyatt was the first to catch my step.

“Is it serious?” he asked.

I knew exactly what he meant.

I weighed the pros of telling him the truth. There was no way at least some of this evening wasn’t going to make its way to Mrs. Underwood, who’d make sure to tell everyone else in Fairhope.

No point in pretending otherwise.

“Yeah.”

“Does Mom know?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

I rubbed my chin. “If Tennessee’s okay with it. Either way, we’ll wait until after your wedding. I don’t want your bride to die of a heart attack.”

“I appreciate it. Finding a third one would be a hassle.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You still have most of your hair and a respectable chunk of inheritance. You’ll be all right. Just don’t tell anyone before Tennessee and I are ready to.”

“You got it, bro.”

There was silence for a few moments. I wondered if the other guys had heard us. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to know or not.

“You kissed someone else,” I pointed out to Wyatt.

He sighed. “Baby bro, not all relationships are the same. Trinity and I have a very good idea of what we want from each other. I doubt she expects faithfulness from me. She just wants to marry into money and stop working.”

“Good,” I said. “Because she is a pretty crappy nurse.”

“Nessy is a good waitress. Kyle says Jerry told him she gets the best tips.”

“She’s talented.”

“I hope she makes you happy.”

“Wyatt?”

“Whaddup?”

“Tell Trinity what happened tonight. Because if you don’t, I will.”





The next day was a Saturday, and my day off. A real blessing, considering I couldn’t show up at the clinic looking like someone punched the daylights out of me.

A blackish-purple bruise formed around my right eye over the course of the night, and by morning, I looked like I’d been mugged.

I screwed on a baseball cap, put on my Aviators, and made my way to Jerry & Sons, where Tennessee was floating between booths, popping her pink gum loudly and joking with the customers.

I slid into an empty seat and waited for her to notice me, admiring the way she worked her audience like a starlet from the fifties. She had too much charm, which made her burst in colors and personality.

She was insufferable in the eyes of those who couldn’t be her or be with her.

My chest filled with sharp pride when I noticed she wore a black pair of tights under her uniform, so no one could see under her dress anymore.