Before returning to Taylor’s apartment, Army had stopped at the neighborhood liquor store and bought a bottle of Jack Daniels and a twenty-four pack of Coors. He hauled the case on his shoulder and walked up the three flights of stairs and tapped the door with the toe of his boot. Footsteps grew louder on the other side until Taylor opened the door and moved aside.
“I have beer in the fridge,” he said as Army marched into the kitchen.
“I like Coors. I got us a bottle of Jack. You got any ice?” He slid the case on the bottom shelf of the fridge then grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and opened the bottle of whiskey.
“Just one shot for me,” Taylor said, leaning over the breakfast bar.
“What’d you do tonight?” Army handed the glass of whiskey to his brother then poured three shots into his.
“Nothing much. I didn’t get back from Champion until ten.” He took a sip. “How’d it go with Mia? I hope you remembered to call her that tonight.”
“It went great. Tonight she was more Mia than Stiletto.” With the glass in hand, he walked over to the couch and plopped down, then kicked off his boots and took a big gulp, relishing the sting as it burned down his throat and into his belly.
“Where’d you go?”
“El Señor something. The food was fuckin’ good.”
“Sol. It’s El Señor Sol, and the food is great.”
“I should’ve figured out the name with all the crazy ass grinning suns. How come you didn’t tell me about the place?”
“You don’t come down that much, and when you do, I rarely see you. It seems like you either have a woman around or are hanging with your club members.” Taylor put the empty glass on the table and gave a half-shrug. “Anyway, I never thought to.”
“How the fuck could you forget that Mexican food is my favorite? Remember the killer enchiladas Mom used to make?” As soon as he asked the question he knew the answer was no.How could Taylor remember? He’d just turned four when she left.He massaged his forehead as he idly stared at nothing.
Taylor shifted on the other end of the couch. “Did you respect Mia tonight?”
For a few seconds Army was eight years old, sitting at the kitchen table and wolfing down the plate of enchiladas as his father told him to slow down and his mother laughed. He could still hear her laugh … like wind chimes on a clear spring day.
“You didn’t,” Taylor groaned. “Fuck, dude. She’s not one of the floozies you hookup with.”
At first his brother’s voice was distant, then it came in clearer and stronger. “What?” Army looked up. “Sorry, dude. I zoned out. What were you asking?”
“Did you respect Mia?”
Army frowned. “Of course. I’m not some goddamn barbarian. We had a nice time.” He got up and refreshed his drink. “What time do you have to work tomorrow?” Taylor had a job at a sporting goods store.
“Around nine. Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”
“I thought I’d stay around until the end of the week.” Ignoring the scowl on Taylor’s face, Army rested his feet on the coffee table and swirled the amber-colored liquor around in the glass. “I want to spend some time with Dad,” he said, hoping that would allay Taylor’s fears and stop any more questions.
“Are you sure you’re not staying to spend more time with Mia?”
“I just told you I wanted to visit Dad.”
“So you’re not going out with her again?”
Army gripped the glass. “Now you’re starting to piss me the fuck off. You told me you weren’t interested in her.”
“I’m not, but she’s my friend and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“That’s fuckin’ noble, but last time I looked she was all grown up. You’re not her damn dad or brother. She can make her own choices.” He threw back his drink.
“But it’s not a fair playing field. She doesn’t know you like I do.” Taylor put his empty glass on the table. “I know how you treat women.”
“Every chick who goes out with me knows the fuckin’ score. I don’t lead them on. I can’t help it if some of them think they can change me.”
“Did you tell Mia the score?”