Page 48 of The Girl with No Name

The man squints.

“I’m military, man. I got a wife. Kid on the way. If I did look at your girl, I’m…sorry.” Dunn says.

CC frowns harder, and then gradually his face morphs into a giant grin. “Fucking military guy who’s into Zach Bryan’s old shit? Why the fuck didn’t you say so?” He gives Dunn a giant bear hug, which Dunn reluctantly receives. “Where’d you serve?”

“Afghanistan.”

“No shit! I was in Iraq, buddy. You shoot?”

“Pope shit in the woods?” Dunn says. “Shit, I mean, bear shit in the woods? Is the Pope Catholic?”

CC laughs along with us now, a big, Santa Claus-like bellow. “Aww, hell, man. I was thinkin’ to serve you up a knuckle sandwich!”

“Man, I don’t usually drink this much. Sorry if me and your, uh, girlfriend, looked like we were, uh?—”

“Aww, that’s all right. I barely know her anyway. You wanna shoot?”

“Right now?”

“Hell yeah! I got some property about twenty minutes from here.”

Dunn shrugs. “Whadda you working with?”

Luna and I look at each other and slowly back off.

The two of them launch into a guns conversation, of which I comprehend little. Five minutes later, Dunn is jumping into a pickup truck with a bunch of guys.

“Y’all want to come?” he asks us.

“Not really my scene.” Luna shakes her head, then turns to me. “Maybe we could go back and you could play me one of your songs at the hotel?”

Dunn shoots me a knowing look. “I think that’s a great idea. He’s got some good shit.”

I don’t know if Dunn is trying to wingman me or not. He’s full-on hammered as hell at this point, and I’m not sober either, so it’s hard to say for sure. But I know being alone with Luna is probably not a great plan.

“Hell, go play for the chick, pretty boy!” CC yells. He is, thankfully, not in the driver’s seat.

The truck revs, and I move closer to Dunn, who’s riding shotgun. “Hey, man. You good?”

He laughs. “If I’m not back by morning, send a search party. But you kiddin’? I live for this shit. Question is areyou?”

I turn to Luna. “You sure you don’t want to go?”

She shrugs. “I mean Icould.”

“There’s still room in the back, pretty boy and pretty girl,” CC notes helpfully.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Luna says after a moment.

I shrug and help her up to the back of the truck bed.

“Beer, for the ride, pretty boy?” CC asks me through the window.

“I don’t usually drink in a car. But as they say, ‘When in Rome…’”

“The fuck you talkin’ bout, man? We ain’t in Rome. We’re in fucking Lexington, Kentucky.”

“Damn straight we are,” I say as I take the beers he hands me and give one to Luna.

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