Page 62 of Tackle

“What the hell was that?” Mack slapped the five pounds of beef he was holding onto the counter.

“I don’t know. Maybe a bottle fell from the shelf of the bar.” She couldn’t think of anything else that would make such a noise.

Standing from her squat, she made her way up front to discover that, indeed, something else could make that much noise.

A brick sailing through the front window.

“Is that a brick? What the hell is going on around here lately?” Mack said, coming up behind her.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Emerson placed her hands on her hips, seething as she stared at the large hole and bits of safety glass scattered all over the floor. She walked over to the brick.

“Don’t touch anything.”

She glared at Mack over her shoulder. “I wasn’t planning to.”

He raised his hands, his eyes going wide.

She sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. This just pisses me off.”

“What’s it say?” He bravely asked.

She toed the brick with the tip of her sneaker.“Back off bitch.”

“I wonder who would do such a thing.”

“Oh, I know who did this.” Emerson took out her phone and snapped a picture and then called the police. They still had two hours before the pub opened. Emerson crossed her fingers the cops would arrive with enough time left for her to clean up the mess and board up the window.

She debated texting Oz. And decided not to. Being at practice there was nothing he could do except stew for hours before he could leave anyway.

Turned out, that was the wrong decision.

“Why the fuck didn’t you text me earlier?”

If Oz growling those eight little words between clenched teeth hadn’t been enough of a clue he was pissed, the little vein bulging at the side of his head would’ve been a dead giveaway.

“Because you couldn’t leave practice and all that would’ve done is cause you to worry,” she tried to reason.

He seemed to agree because his jaw locked tighter but he didn’t say anything.

“Come on.” She took his arm, leading him from the front of the pub, where he’d cornered her when he’d first arrived, to his booth. “Let’s sit down. I’ll get you something to eat.”

But instead of letting her leave, he pulled her in next to him.

“What time is someone coming to fix the window?”

Emerson breathed a sigh of relief. They were changing the subject. “Sometime this afternoon. When I called the glass company this morning, they said they’d get someone out today, but couldn’t guarantee a time.” Thankfully, the insurance adjuster was more on the ball and had already come and gone.

He grunted, accompanying it with a nod. Okay, so he wasn’t completely over his anger, but he was getting there.

“Which is fine. I’m just happy someone can get out here today. I’d hate to leave the window boarded up overnight.”

He still didn’t say anything, only stared at his fisted hands which rested on the table.

Not wanting him to dwell, she tried to change the subject entirely. “How was practice today?”

“You could’ve been hurt. Fuck, if that brick had hit you in the head, you could’ve been killed.”

Okay, that didn’t work. “Luckily, we were closed when it happened. If she’d hit a customer, now that would’ve been really bad.”

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