He carefully slid his hand away and waved the bartender over, ordering more shots and two more beers. “Don’t give up on him.”
“I just want him to be happy, right?”
To Parker that meant riding. It was all these guys knew, all they understood.
He didn’t argue the point. “We’ll get him there.”
He was feeling the tequila now, and he welcomed the little bit of numb. He pushed the third shot over to Parker and followed that with a second glass of beer. “You see him all you want this week. I know you have to get back to it soon. Doc told me.” He picked up his shot glass.
“I do. It’s scary, huh? Like he’s not in there.”
No. No, Sky was in there. “Did you touch him?”
“No. No, there wasn’t anything to touch.”
“There is! His left hand has two free fingers. I swear to God he can move ’em. Jusss…twitches. But you try it. He’s in there, I shwear.”Ooh.He was slurring. Shhhlurring. Ha-ha.
“You’re imagining it. He’s in a comer.”
A comer. Absolutely. A medically inclusive comer.
“Nope. Nope. Ass Doc.” His eyes popped open wide. “Jesus. Ass…” He giggled and shook his head. “Asssk Doc. Doc is a smart guy.”
Parker stared at him, soft chuckles beginning to fill the air. “Aren’t those called practicologists?”
Oh.He frowned at Parker seriously. “Practologistics. No. Proctisolo…you were totally right.” He shook his head. “But Doc isn’t an ass doc.”
“No. Not an ass bandit, either. He’s straight, you know? He has six kids.”
“Straight? What’s a straight guy doing in the rodeo?” He laughed, cracking himself up. “Six fucking kids? What the hell? Hasn’t he heard of birth control?”
“You know cowboys and babies, man. You gon’ get you some? Babies, I mean, ’cause you can have any cowboy you want. But Doc, cause he’s straight.”
“I have a cowboy! I have a cowboy. He’s a little broken right now. A leetle bit.” He squinted at Parker through his fingers. “Oh. You know that. Anyway, he’ll get better. I don’t know if he wants babies, though. I mean…I just found out he has a…a cat.” An asshole cat. Where was his beer?
“A monster cat. A demon cat. The meanest fucking beast on earth. I think he’s the devil.”
“I don’ wan’ a devil cat. You…” He threw an arm over Parker’s shoulders. “You…you…you want the trailer? He doesn’t need a trailer anymore. We can put his shit in my Jeep.”
“You would let me? For reals? Will the cat fit in your Jeep?”
“Does he have to have Wilbur? Wayne? What the fuck was his name? Don’t you want him?” A check landed on the bar in front of him and he pulled out his wallet and dropped his Amex. “Willie. Wesley.”
“Walter.” Parker’s hands landed on his butt. “Don’t fall.”
“I wassssn’ falling. Wait. Was I falling? I think I’m a little drunk. Your hand is on my ass, kid.” He grabbed his card back and signed the check. “You take the…thing. The uh…the trailer. And the truck. Sky would want you to be okay, I think.” He was totally leaning on Parker. “Oh. I was falling.”
“Uh-huh. Falling. Come upstairs afore they call the cops.”
“Yeah. The bartender’s ’noyed. He made me pay the tab.” He and Parker left the bar and stumbled toward the elevators. “I think ’m holding you up now, man.”
“You’re doin’ good. You’re good.”
The doors opened up, the lights swinging wildly, and thank God Parker did have him, becausewhoa.
“Ooh. I’m definilly drunk. Sky would laugh at me.”
“Promise I won’t tell. I got you. You know which room I’m in?”