Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(83)

I shook out of Miguel and Vic’s grip and leveled a finger at Doug. “Not one more goddamned word, Doug. Not one.”

“Fuck you, Cory,” Doug said, and spat a wad of red saliva onto the floorboards. “Everyone knows you’re up that rich bitch’s skirt. She’s renting her house to you for a f*cking dollar?” He snorted a laugh. “What else? You gotta service her every night? Is that why you can’t sleep?”

“Shut up, Doug,” Vic warned.

“Hero of United One,” Doug scoffed, spitting again. “*-whipped bitch is more like it.”

I didn’t know what was wrong with me—I wasn’t a violent guy—and yet I charged at Doug again, ready to knock him out and shut his stupid mouth. But Vic and Miguel caught me and Doug skipped backward, right into Randall Martin.

The boss glanced around at the broken tile, Doug’s bloody lip, and me. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Nothing, boss,” Vic said. “Right guys? It’s cool. We’re all cool here.”

“Fuck that,” Doug said, pointing at me. “He attacked me.” He wiped blood off his lip and held it up. The entire crew was there now, watching. “See that? That’s called assault and battery, *. You’re going to need your rich bitch lawyer to save you again when I sue your ass.”

“Now, hold up,” Vic said. “No one is suing anyone. Are you, Doug?”

“Watch me.”

I didn’t say anything but fought the urge to clout the ugly sneer off Doug Liman’s face.

“You’re not suing anyone,” Vic snapped. “You said some rude shit and took a fist in the face for it. Man up.”

Doug withered a little, and then relented completely as the other guys voiced their agreement. He held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Just stay the hell away from me, Bishop.”

A silence fell and Randall, a skinny man with watery blue eyes and a nasal voice, crossed his arms over his chest. His stern look held as much authority as a substitute teacher. “Mmmkay, glad that’s settled. But seems we have some broken tile. That’s out of your check, Bishop. I’m going to Stoneworks and replace those. The rest of you get back to work. No more funny business.”

“Si, boss,” Vic said.

“Got a minute, Mr. Martin?” I asked, my eyes still locked on Doug.

“I got the time it takes to get back to my car.”

I brushed past Doug on my way out, daring him to say one more word. He looked petulant but kept his mouth shut for a change. I followed the boss to the driveway.

“Not a good idea to punch a man, Bishop,” Randall said. “It would be within his rights to sue you.”

“I know, sir,” I said, swallowing down my anger. “Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. Or I’ll have to let you go. You’re not irreplaceable, you know. Hero or not.”

My hands clenched again. “Yeah, so, I wanted to ask you about my journeyman hours. I’m going to take the GC test on Sunday and I just wanted to make sure that you uh…”

Randal stopped at his car—a forest green Subaru—and heaved a sigh. “I told you weeks ago, when you were in the hospital, I took care of that.”

“Okay, yeah, thanks. Just wanted to make sure since I’m taking the test on Sunday.”

Randall climbed into his car. “You said that already, Bishop. I did my part, so quit hassling me over it.”

I waited until my boss was out of the driveway and out of sight, and let out a measured sigh. Nothing to do but trust the guy.

I went back inside the house where Rob Santos had taken over the tiling in the kitchen so that Doug could work out back, as far away from me as possible.

“You okay?” Vic asked.

“Give us a minute, Rob?”

“Sure.” A chain-smoker, Rob was already pulling out a battered pack of Marlboro reds from the front pocket of his work shirt.

When he’d gone out to the backyard, I rounded on Vic. “Don’t talk about her again,” I said. “Or my situation. Not around here. It’s no one’s business but mine.”

Anger flared in Vic’s eyes but died quickly. “Yeah, man. You’re right, sorry. But Doug Liman’s a knucklehead. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Too late. I ran a hand over my tired eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m just…burnt today.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Vic said. “What gives? Robbery shit? Or is it really her?”

I glanced at my friend, searching for signs of the same crude disrespect for Alex that had earned Doug a fist in the mouth. There was nothing like that in Vic. “It’s all your fault, you know,” I said finally, kneeling down to sort out the pipes I was supposed to be installing under the sink.

Vic frowned. “What’s my fault? Calling on Alex’s help at the hearing? Hey, it was either that or Georgia skips town with Callie, right?”

“Yeah, I should thank you and kick your ass.”

“You’re really tied up in this woman, si?” He held up his hands when my head snapped up. “Come on, it’s me. I haven’t seen you like this…since never. You and Alex…?” He waggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.