Page 87 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

“Are you coming to the gym?” Jack asks him. “X is stepping up.”

Bobby turns from his perusal of the fridge and smiles. “No shit?”

“True. Oz said he’ll make it happen. X has been pissing him off lately, so he asked me to help him out.”

“What about his shoulder?”

“Looks like we’ll both be one arm down. Reminds me of old times, B.”

Bobby grins. “That was a good fuckin’ fight. We should do that again.” He turns back to the fridge and continues to look around, then turning back, he frowns. “Where’s the syrup?”

“What syrup?”

“For the pancakes.”

Jack steps up to Bobby, violently shoves him aside and slams the door shut. “Get the fuck outta my fridge and get your own syrup.”

“We ran out.”

“Wanna know how many fucks I have to give?”

Britt rolls her eyes. She walks into the walk-in pantry with Charlie in her arms, then walks out with a fresh bottle. “Here, B.”

Bobby winks teasingly at Jack, then he turns back to my sister and kisses her on the cheek. “Thanks, Britt.” He turns on his heel and walks away. “I’ll see you losers at the gym after breakfast. If you survive X, I’ll step up next.”

***

A few hours later, I wipe hair from my face as sweat drips into my eyes and stings my split lip. Jimmy Kincaid is a cheap fighter, and just because we’re the same weight division, he feels like he’s allowed to pop me in the face and get away with it.

“Let’s go,” he taunts. “Stand up straight. Move around.”

“Fuck you. I don’t do this. I’m not a fighter.”

“You are today.” Jimmy spins on his heel, ducking low then sweeping my feet out from beneath me. I slam onto the matted floor as my breath bursts from my lungs and my ribs rattle together.

He laughs and stands over me. “Get up. Your mama shoulda taught you this when you were two.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

He holds his hand out to me until I take it, but just as he pulls me halfway up, he drops me and I land with another floor-shaking thump. His keen eyes snap up. “Nope!”

My eyes follow his gaze until I find Jim’s ten-year-old daughter, his thirteen-year-old niece, and Mac sneaking along the far wall in an effort to escape. “You girls walk out that door with him and you’re grounded until you graduate.”

Bean spins quickly, pressing her hand to her chest in fright. “Daddy–”

“College, not high school.”

She stomps her foot stubbornly. “Daddy!”

“Nope. Get over here. Now. Uncle Scotch needs a sparring partner. Smalls, I catch you alone with Mac again, and you’ll be in big shit.”

“Uncle Jimmy--”

“Don’t test me, girl.” Jimmy grabs my hand and pulls me to standing, then turning on the spot, he shouts “Biggie!” so loud everyone in the room stops to look.

“Ugh.” Evie ‘Smalls’ Kincaid grunts. Her tight ringlets bounce over her eyes as she murders her uncle with a glare, but then Aiden steps into the room curiously, and her murderous glare turns sugary sweet. She steps under his arm and hugs him. “Hey Biggie.”

He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “What’s up?”

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