Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(26)

“Huh? Oh.” I reached up to my face, realizing I didn’t have them on. “They’re reading glasses. I don’t wear them all the time, just at work and…” I shook my head, feeling even more frazzled than I’d been before he’d shown up. “Never mind. I don’t know why I’m explaining anything to you. You’re leaving.”

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. It’s my problem, and I’m handling—”

Loud, thumping music sounded from up the road. Within seconds, a dark blue Bronco appeared and pulled into the driveway next to mine. I put one hand on my hip and watched the Barlow brothers climb out, hooting and hollering, and carrying a brand new eighteen-pack of beer.

Sloppy. Rowdy. And drunk, as usual.

Joe Barlow wore his cap backward. Stray tufts of his dark hair poked out between his eyes, his sideburns, and the back of his neck. His dirty white tank top left his tattooed arms exposed, though I couldn’t make out the red ink blob on his left bicep. As he rounded the hood of the Bronco, he guzzled the last of the beer in his hand, then crushed the empty can on his chest. His brother chortled at the sight.

Clay was shorter than Joe, heavily overweight, and laughed like a snickering hyena. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the too-tight jeans he had squeezed himself into only emphasized his large pot belly and tanned ass crack. A toothpick dangled from his yellowed teeth as he turned, set down the case of beer, and did something with his hands I couldn’t quite make out.

There was a shrill whistle and a loud pop as a fire cracker shot through the air and over my house, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. I threw down the hose and started for the two men. I’d made it halfway across the lawn when Cowboy caught up to me. To him, it must’ve seemed like a random burst of energy. He hadn’t been there for the first round of fireworks before the brothers had taken off on their apparent beer run.

Cowboy latched onto my arm and shook his head. “Hold up, tiny. You don’t want to do that.”

I glared at him. “Oh, really?”

“Those guys are bad news. Most people—at least the ones in their right minds—tend to avoid them.”

“And why’s that?”

“Those boys are known bullies,” he said, letting go of me. “They live to intimidate others, plain and simple. They were a few grades ahead of us in school, but I’ve known them my whole life. Even saw them in action firsthand when they got into it at The Backwoods with my captain the day of my promotion party. If you go over there, you’re asking for trouble.”

I crossed my arms and sighed. “So I’m supposed to keep quiet and do nothing?”

“When they were younger, Clay had an itchy trigger finger, taking a notion to shooting things with his BB gun just for the hell of it. Joe wasn’t much better. He may be older, but he’s always had a problem with authority. Ended up in jail more than once after a scuffle with the sheriff. You don’t want to get mixed up with—” He glanced back at them and said, “Oh, shit!” Then he grabbed me and spun me sideways.

A whoosh sounded as something whizzed past us like a rocket, hit the side of my house with a loud thump, and exploded on impact. The fireball fell into the bush directly underneath, and the shrubbery instantly caught fire.

Joe and Clay burst into hysterics.

“You idiots! Watch where you’re shooting those things!” Cowboy sprinted away from me, picked up my abandoned hose, and soaked down the greenery, as well as the side of my house.

Maybe most people in their right mind avoided the Barlow brothers, but I was no longer in mine. I marched across my yard and right into theirs, sticking my finger in each of their faces as if it were a loaded weapon. “That’s it. I’ve had enough! Every night this week, you two have shot fireworks over my home.”

Clay grinned. “So what?”

“So what? Are you kidding me?” Outraged, I flapped my arms and squawked at him like a hen. “It’s a fire hazard. You could kill somebody doing something so stupid and reckless.”

“Ah,” Joe said, waving me off. “Why don’t you shut up and go home?” He turned away from me, dismissing me completely.

But I wouldn’t allow it.

I circled him and stepped in his path. “Look, I tried to ask nicely the other day, but you just laughed and ignored me. I won’t sit back and watch you set my house on fire. If you don’t knock it off this time, I’m going to…to…”

Joe’s eyes narrowed at me. “You’re going to do what?”

“I’ll call the police.”

Clay elbowed his brother in a “get this chick” capacity and chuckled. By now, anything I said would fall on deaf ears, so I spun around and headed back onto my own property to get my phone and make good on my promise. I wasn’t sure if Joe caught a glimpse of the determination in my eyes, but he jumped in front of me, blocking my path.

“Get out of my way.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?”

Cowboy was still busy snuffing out the burning bush, but I wasn’t willing to back down. I crossed my arms and glared at Joe. “You’re already in enough trouble. Do you really want to add holding me hostage to the charges?”

He snorted. “Lady, you’d have to prove it first. Besides, I’m not in trouble for nothing. My dipshit brother shot the fireworks off, not me.”