Page 92 of Dysfunctional

“Yo, that’s not cool, man,” Jason says, standing up. “They’re not even doing anything.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jason,” BJ replies.

I put my hand on Jason’s arm. “It’s okay. Go check on Sam.”

He hesitates briefly before walking off. BJ gets up and sneers at us before stomping his way to the bar. Kas tracks every step, and I can almost read every twisted thought behind his gaze.

Soon, Sam and Jason appear next to the table.

“I’m so sorry, guys. I don’t know what to say. I’m embarrassed and angry,” Samantha says, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

“Don’t apologize,” I say. “It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t want to be around him,” she says, chancing a nervous glance toward the bar. “Jason’s gonna take me home.”

Me and Kas both nod. “Sounds good. We’ll probably leave soon, too.”

“Take care, guys,” I say.

“Have a safe trip,” Jason offers. “Sorry one of your last times here ended like this. Feel free to reach out if you need anything.”

I dip my chin. “Thanks.”

We only stay long enough to finish our drinks. Once we’re outside, Kas takes a breath, still struggling to keep his anger under control.

“My dad used to call me that a lot,” he finally says between gritted teeth. “He’d say I was the way I am because of him, because of the things he had done.”

“That’s bullshit,” I spit. “If I could bring him back from the dead, I would, just so I could fucking kill him all over again.”

“I know it’s not true. I am who I was always going to be regardless of him, but it was just the things he’d say to get under my skin.”

I stay quiet, knowing there’s not much else I can say to offer him any sort of relief. But I do know of something else I can do.

* * *

After nearly an hour,BJ emerges from the bar and gets into his sports car. It’s such a stupid car to drive in the winter around here, especially considering there’s still plenty of snow on the ground as well as patches of ice.

We follow him for nearly ten minutes before the slow leak in his tire from the small puncture wound we put in it, makes it harder for him to control. He pulls over, struggling to get close to the curb since there’s a thick mound of hardened snow along the edge.

The street is dark and lined by trees, far from the business district and not too close to any residential areas either. There’s no traffic and no streetlights, but we still have to be quick about it.

We pass him and park along the curb in front of his car. I give Kas a nod when he looks over at me, and then we step out.

Kaspian grabs the tire iron from the bed of my truck before we make our way toward BJ. He steps out of the car and starts checking his tires before looking in our direction.

“Oh hell,” he mutters.

I slow my steps and allow Kas to take the lead. “You got a problem with your tire?” he asks, holding the tire iron over his shoulder as he looms over a crouched BJ.

“I don’t need help fromyou.” His final word drips with revulsion.

“No?” Kas asks. “It’s late. There’s only one place that’ll tow you out of here and they don’t return calls for hours.”

BJ stands up, coming a few inches shy of Kaspian’s six-foot one frame, and I stand to the side of them, waiting to see where this goes. “What do you know about fixing cars, anyway?”

“Plenty,” Kas says with a wicked grin. “You just have to apologize to us first.”

“Fuck that,” BJ scoffs. “I meant what I said.” He turns his back on Kas. A mistake. “I got someone who can come get me and he won’t try to suck my dick either.”

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