Page 6 of Kings of Decay
There was a loud squeal as a battered pick-up truck came to a stop just outside the general store. People ran out of the bar across the street and flung the door open. A middle-aged guy staggered out, a bottle of vodka in his hand. He stumbled and fell into the snow.
Rose made a disappointed sound.
Without a second thought, Dad ran out to help, and I was left standing with our basket.
“That boy is going to kill someone someday,” Rose muttered as she took my money. God, groceries were expensive as hell this far up north.
“Huh?” I ask, looking away as the driver began throwing up all over the snow. Thankfully, a few people were trying to help him get up. The second-hand embarrassment was intense.
“He’s still not over the divorce,” Rose continued, mumbling to herself before noticing that I was listening. “Harvey. My ex-son-in-law,” she said with a tightness in her voice.
I nodded, unsure what to say, and shoved the change into my pocket. I quickly threw our groceries in a reusable tote bag.
In the blink of an eye, the crowd’s energy shifted. The man starts throwing punches.
“Dad!” I shouted, dropping the tote on the floor as I rushed out.
The drunk guy, Harvey, started swinging at my dad.
"C'mon, buddy," Dad's voice was gentle but firm. He’d seen enough of this stuff when we lived in the city. He always had a soft spot for bums and homeless people. He’d stopped countless fights that he had no business being involved in. It was just his nature, I guess.He was the kind of guy who cared deeply for other people. Even strangers.
The drunk swayed, his gaze landing on me. "Leave me alone," he mumbled, his voice thick with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."
I stepped back, a wave of unease washing over me.
Dad put himself between me and the drunk. “We’re just trying to help."
Harvey's head snaps up, his eyes burning with a sudden fury. "Help? No one can help me. She's gone. She's gone, and it's all my fault." He lunged forward, his fists aimed at Dad.
Dad was quick for a man of his size, sidestepping the clumsy swing.
"Easy, friend," Dad soothed, his tone still calm. "It's okay to hurt, but you don't need to hurt anyone else."
The drunk stumbled, his anger turning to despair. He sunk into the snowbank, sobbing into his hands.
Dad crouched beside him, his hand resting lightly on the man's shoulder.
I stepped back as the crowd surrounded him again. A man with a big beard from the bar across the street grabs the keys from the ignition. “Someone get this guy home where he can sober up.”
A lady shook her head. “One day, he’s going to hurt an innocent person.”
“Then the Winston brothers will take care of him,” someone added in a dark tone.
Some of the townspeople exchanged glances at those words. The fear in their expressions made my stomach turn.
The Winston brothers?
Chapter five
Willow
The fire in the woodstove crackled merrily in the silence, broken only by the sound of my keyboard. It was only the first week of October, but every day felt like Christmas when there was a fire burning by the sofa.
I was curled up, working on my homework. Thankfully, I’d settled into a groove now and was able to focus on my studies during the days while my Dad was gone. The only time I left the house was to go into town.
I took a long sip of my tea and stretched before opening the next PowerPoint that our professor posted this morning.
“Good news!” Dad opened the door with a beaming smile.
