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Preppy, Part Three, The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater (King, #7) by T.M. Frazier (8)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Preppy

“What the fuck happened?” I asked, glancing between Wolf and Rev. “You two?”

Wolf held up his hands defensively. “Not us, brother. The kid came limping up the driveway bleeding and beat to shit. Someone got him good, but it wasn’t us.”

“I’m fiiiiiine,” Kevin moaned, dropping his elbows onto the grass almost like he was fighting the need to lie down.

“Yeah, you look it,” I said, rolling my eyes. Stubborn son-of-a-bitch.

Behind me I heard Dre shuffling the kids inside the house.

“You want us to carry him in?” Rev asked, resting his hands on his belt.

“We’re good here,” I said. “Thanks.” The bikers left the yard to go back to their posts at the front of the house.

“Anything broken?” I asked, squatting down next to Kevin.

“Just my spirit, my pride,” he groaned. I grabbed him by the elbows and pulled him up into a sitting position. He winced and hissed through his teeth. “And maybe my collarbone.”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news,” I started. “The bad news is that there ain’t shit you can do about a broken collarbone. I know, because I broke mine twice and had mine broken twice more.” I paused. “Do you want to hear the good news?”

“Suuuuuuure,” Kevin sang, looking up at me through his one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.

“The good news is that you CAN do something about your broken spirit and pride.”

I lit two cigarettes and passed one to Kevin. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do I do that?”

I leaned in close. “You can start by telling me who the fuck did this to you.”

Kevin’s face reddened with embarrassment as he told me the story of how he’d been robbed by a trio of douchebags over The Causeway he’d met up with thinking they wanted to buy weed. The guys were having a ‘boy’s weekend.’ Apparently, this ‘boy’s weekend’ included jacking my little brother of his stash, his bike, then beating the shit out of him for funsies.

Kevin would be sore as shit for the next few days, but he’d survive.

Too bad I couldn’t say the same for the douchebags.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Kevin groaned as I helped him stand. “I think so.”

“Good, then let’s go,” I said.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s time for another lesson,” I said. “Except this time you’ll be the one teaching it.”

“What kind of lesson?”

“The most important one.” I was already unbuttoning the cuffs of my sleeves, rolling them up above my elbows. I pulled my gun from my pants and shoved it into Kevin’s surprised hands. I clapped him on the shoulder. “You don’t fuck with Samuel Clearwater.”

****

We were on the beach watching the three bitches who jacked Kevin through an opening in the tall grass. It was dark, almost midnight, but the lights from the nearby hotel gave off just enough light to properly see our targets who were gathered around a small fire pit, drinking beers and laughing amongst themselves.

They wouldn’t be laughing long.

“What are you going to do?” Kevin asked.

“You’ll see. Just stay behind me for now.” I took off my shoes and carried them in my hands, strolling by them like I was any other citizen taking a stroll to feel the cool sand between their toes.

I’m not gonna lie, it did feel kind of spectacular.

I’d just about passed them when I spun my head back around. The three of them watched as I approached. “Hey, how you doing, man?” I asked enthusiastically. “It’s been so fucking long.”

In my head I’d given them names. Dickbag #1, #2, and #3.

Dickbag #1, who was standing with his leg propped up on a log like Captain fucking Morgan, looked over at me and squinted. “Um. Yeah, it has been while, man,” he said, confusion all over his face as he tried to place me.

“Come on in here, give your old friend a hug,” I said reaching for his hand and pulling him in for a bro hug. Except when he made a move to step back I reached for my gun and before he knew what was happening I pistol-whipped him across the side of the face, knocking him out cold. I covered my mouth with my hand. “Oops, I guess we didn’t know each other after all.”

“What the fuck?” Dickbag #2 said, standing up from his chair.

“You sit the fuck back down,” I ordered, training my gun on him. “Kevin, come on out here,” I called. Kevin stepped out of the shadows.

Dickbag #2 swore. “Fuck.”

“You guys have already met my brother, Kevin, right?” I asked, pointing my gun from one shivering dickbag to the other. “You guys must be from out of town,” I said.

Dickbag #3 shook his head. “No, we’re from Coral Pines.”

“Then you should fucking know better than to mess with me and mine,” I said.

“Who...who are you?” Dickbag #3 asked.

“Oh, shit, my bad. I didn’t introduce myself yet.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s start over. My name is Samuel Clearwater.”

“Oh shit!” Dickbag #2 yelled. He tried to make a run for it but before he could leap over the log he was sitting on I fired, landing a shot in the back of his thigh. He crumbled to the sand and pressed his hand over the wound, wailing like I’d just killed his mama. I rolled my eyes. “Shut the fuck up. I’ve been shot like,” I paused to count on my fingers. “Well, at least like three times and it doesn’t hurt that fucking bad. Don’t be a pussy. Take your punishment like a man.”

I turned to the Dickbag #3 “Tell him that being shot doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“I’ve never been...” he started. I fired one off, pegging him in the foot.

“Kevin, get your shit back,” I said.

Kevin opened the cooler and pulled out a bag of weed and a stack of cash. “Got it.”

“Now when this one wakes up, you two will need to tell him exactly how it feels,” I kicked Dickbag #1, rolling him over onto his back with my foot. “Ah, fuck it, I fired off a round into his arm. “He’ll find out when he comes to.”

I turned to Kevin. “Shit man, I can’t believe I’ve taken all the fun from your first revenge shooting for myself. Get your ass over here you knucklehead.” Kevin walked over to me and I passed him my gun. “You ever fired a gun before?”

Kevin shook his head.

“Dickbag #2, stand the fuck up,” I ordered. When he wouldn’t stand I stomped over and lifted him up, propping him back into his chair as he continued to carry on like being shot hurts that fucking bad. “I wonder if your parents know their son has a fucking vagina,” I muttered, making my way back over to Kevin.

“Okay, now you want to aim for his shin.” I stood behind Kevin and adjusted his hand on the gun. I lifted his arm so he was properly aimed at the target. “Stay exactly where you are,” I warned the Dickbag. “If you move even an inch he could easily hit you in the chest or head. That inch could mean the difference between an ouchie he’s hurt, and an oopsie, he’s dead.”

He whimpered like an injured puppy. “Who the fuck is raising you kids these days? Is everyone scared shitless? Ya’ll should be fucking embarrassed. I’m going to write a strongly worded letter to our congressman regarding the massive vagina problem our youth is facing.”

“What if I miss?”

I shrugged. “Then he’s dead. Then the other two gotta go because you know, no witnesses left behind and all.”

“No, please. I’m sorry. Wait!” The dickbag cried, but it was too late for begging.

Kevin pulled the trigger.

*****

“I can’t believe you fell back in the sand on your ass!” I whispered, not wanting to wake Dre or Bo as I unrolled the hose from the holder on the side of the house.

Kevin’s shot had hit sand about four seconds before he did. We’d left the three dickbags alive but not before warning them that next time that wouldn’t be the case.

“I told you I never fired a gun before,” Kevin muttered.

“That’s all right, I think the first time I fired one I did the same thing except I fell into a thick thatch of sand spurs,” I said.

“Really?” Kevin asked, sounding hopeful.

“Nope. Not really. I was pretty amazing from the very first second I touched a gun, but that’s okay, we’re not all born naturals.” I twisted the nozzle. “Okay, now strip.”

“Uh, Preppy? Why do I have to hose off outside?” Kevin asked, taking off his boots.

“Because Dre spent all weekend re-grouting the tile in that bathroom. Ain’t no way I’m going to let you dirty up her new white grout with your blood, so strip down,” I said.

“Thanks for today, Prep. I mean it. I...I never had someone do that for me before. It was cool, man.”

“I’ll bill you later,” I joked as Kevin took off the rest of his clothes.

I turned the handle on the house to the left and the pipes hissed to life as water filled the hose. “Okay, let’s do this,” I said, turning back to Kevin. I was about to spray him clean when I paused with my finger on an entirely different kind of trigger than earlier.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, staring at Kevin and his now naked body.

“Dude, what?” Kevin asked, looking down to see where I was staring. “What the fuck are you staring at?”

Kevin had occasionally done something that reminded me of myself, but next to a DNA test, I still had no valid proof he was my brother. Nothing that connected us as family.

Until now.

“Dude, you’re creeping me out,” Kevin said, reaching for his shorts.

Before he could pull them back on I dropped the hose and bee-lined toward him, wrapping him in a bear hug. “You really are my brother.”

“Huh?” Kevin asked, standing as still as a statue.

“Shhhh...just let me love you.”

“What exactly is going on out here?” Dre asked from the porch, flipping on the light. I still didn’t let go.

“He’s my brother. I’m sure of it now,” I informed her.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Kevin said, wiggling free from my grip.

“Oh yeah?” Dre asked, amusement in her sleepy tone. She yawned and cinched the sash of the sexy little robe she was wearing that showed off those amazing legs of hers. “How are you so sure?”

I stepped back and pointed down to Kevin’s massive cock. “Because of that!”

Dre’s sweet laughter filled the air. I picked up the hose again and started to spray Kevin down. “Shit man, that’s cold!” he shouted, dancing around in the grass. “And are you gonna fill me in on what exactly she’s laughing at?”

“That,” I informed him, spraying his crotch with water. “Because I just found more proof that we’re brothers than the fact that we think we both were shot out of the same cunt.” I grinned from ear to ear.

“Okay? And what’s that?” Kevin asked. I turned off the hose and Dre tossed him a towel.

I dropped my eyes to the huge slab of man meat between Kevin’s legs. “From the waist down we’re not just brothers, we’re fucking twinsies.”

“Uh, what the fuck, Preppy?” Kevin asked, putting his shorts back on.

“Quick,” I said. “Tell me something. How do you feel about pancakes?”

Kevin shivered. “Honestly, I’m more of a waffle kind of guy.”

Dre gasped.

I shut my eyes tightly, clenching my fists at my side. I cracked my neck and slowly turned to face him. I opened my eyes. “What the fuck did you just say to me, boy? You better start running.”

“Wait, what?” Kevin asked, taking a step back and tripping over the sprinkler. He stood up and bolted through the gate. I chased him through the field while Dre looked on and laughed.

“I take it all back! You’re not my brother!” I shouted, tackling him to the ground and sitting on his chest.

“What the fuck, Preppy?” Kevin said, squirming under me.

“You and I need to have a serious fucking talk.” I leaned down until my nose was almost touching his. “About the abomination that is waffles.”