You've Got Tail by Renee George

Author:Renee George [George, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Boutiques
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The man standing in my restaurant looked wild and savage, if you didn’t count the civilized blue jeans and gray one-pocket T-shirt. It was obvious someone else besides him did his laundry. His hair was long, black, and unkempt.

He had a scraggly beard with too many days’ growth that crept up the sides of his cheeks, and his amber pupils were just a tad more yellow than his corneas. Even from across the room, I could smell whiskey oozing from his pores. His lips pulled back in an ugly snarl.

This was it. This was the hour of my demise. Death had come for a visit and it seemed he was really pissed. At me. Ack.

“Not open yet,” I said in a pleasant voice, trying to hide the strain in my vocal cords. Babel moved in front of me. The pose he took reminded me of Wolverine getting ready for battle.

“Stay out of this, Trimmel.” The man’s voice was gruff from too many cigarettes or drinks, I wasn’t sure which, but it had the effect of making me quiver to the bone.

“Go home, Brady.”

Brady? Why did the name sound familiar?

The man stalked farther into the restaurant. He pointed a shaky finger at me. “I want you to leave my boy alone.”

Boy, boy? I checked my mental inventory, trying to figure out exactly what boy he could be talking about. The only person I’d spent any amount of time with had been Babel. Surely this wasn’t his father. “I think you have the wrong girl.”

He walked closer, making me take a step back. I tasted my heart in my mouth. Thank heaven’s Babel was there. I’d have been freaking out big time if I’d been alone.

He pointed again. “If Jolon comes back around, you just send him on his way.”

Babel spoke up again. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, Brady. Go home.”

Jolon? Who the heck? Oh, Jo Jo. “I don’t know what you think I…”

The wild man cut me off. “You don’t pay a seventeen-year-old fifty dollars for unloading a few boxes, gal. So whatever you paid him for, it’s not happening again. Are we clear?”

I don’t know which offended me more, his insinuation that I’d paid his seventeen-year-old son for sex, or the fact that he’d think I’d need to pay for sex.

I loved being angry. It drowned out the fear. “Now you just wait one minute!” I snapped, advancing on him. To my surprise, he backed away. “Maybe I overpaid for a little help, but I in no way defiled your child. I resent the implication, Mister…whatever the hell your name is!”

Stunned, he supplied the information. “Brady Corman.”

“Mr. Corman. You have a lot of nerve coming into my establishment and accusing me of stuff.” I poked Brady in the chest. His bloodshot eyes went wide. “And while the people around here haven’t been super friendly, no one has been so rude!” I poked him again.

He raised his hands, open palm, as if to surrender. “Calm down, missy.”

“Don’t you missy me.

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