“No, sir, not even on life.” Somewhere in the back of his head, he could hear Ray Stevens going, ‘are you nekked?’
“Are you here with Dan or Chris?”
“No, Stanley.” And it was his first time out. He didn’t need this shit, especially not from some cotton candy-haired won’t-you-think-of-the-children dipshit.
“I heard the whole thing by the way.” That was the voice he didn’t recognize, but he ought to. It was so fucking challenging to keep everybody’s voices separate.
“All right. How’s it going, Mr. Rory?” Ben asked.
Oh. Rory. That was Luke’s husband from the Rocking W. The lawyer.
“Just fine. I came in for ice cream. I had a hankering for Rocky Road.”
“Well, good thing, too. Ma’am, I’m going to need you to move along. Unless you’d like to discuss harassment charges.”
“Oh!” The woman stomped away hard, her cart squeaking.
“Thanks.” Lance encompassed both Ben and Rory in the blanket thank-you.
Rory’s soft chuckle sounded. “I was thinking I should have gone to Braum’s. But I also needed WD-40.”
“Kinky,” Ben murmured.
“Is it safe to come out?” Stanley grated, his voice like rocks rolling around in a bag.
And all of a sudden, Lance felt the urge to laugh. Just wild whoops of laughter, trying to escape so much that he shook with it.
“Dude, you okay?” Ben asked.
“I’m—” He wheezed. “Oh, Jeez.”
“I thought you were gonna lay this smackdown on her. That’s not a joke. You’re a stud.”
He stared in Stanley’s general direction. “I mean, seriously. I was just…”
“Defending yourself and your friend. Good for you.” Rory sounded satisfied, as if he had their backs, like he was just as pissed off. “That was completely out of line.You would think— Well, you would hope that people had more sense, but that’s a lot to ask.”
“You know it, Mr. Rory. It’s a lot to ask for some of these folks to not just be total jackasses.”
“Yeah, I hear that.”
Lance guessed he should be embarrassed or claim that he’d snapped, but he wasn’t.
Because that was bullshit.
Stanley had managed to get his courage up to come out and buy his own fucking groceries. God-for-fucking-bid that a man who had sacrificed himself for his country should come out in public and go the goddamn big box store. The world should end.
“Lance, man, you okay?” Stanley asked. “You’re awful red.”
“No, I am not okay. I am not all right. How dare that witch stand here and accuse me of being a monster and say that I shouldn’t be allowed to go to the goddamn grocery store!”
Abby whimpered a little, nudging his leg hard. That was her cue, her Dad-bring-it-down clue. He hated it, but he was grateful for it all at the same time. Because he knew he was furious, and he also know he had a reason to be pissed.
He also knew he had to take care of himself and breathe, even if he wanted to kick someone.
“I appreciate it. Thank you. You did this for me. I know it has to be hard. Everything is hard.” Stanley sounded small, and that aggravated the hell out of him.
“Everything is going to be hard from now on. Hanging out with you is not hard. Putting up with that bitch? That was hard. Trying to figure out whether or not this is cheddar cheese or Monterey Jack cheese when you’re blind? Hard. Trying to figure out credit card machines? Hard. Hanging out with you, Stan?Not hard.”