Frank Zafiro - Blood on Blood

I keep looking at him but he just stares out the window.

“I think I know it.”

I thought on that for a second. He just gives me a kiss my ass kinda smirk.

“Okay,” I say. “Well, then, let’s hear it.”

“It had to be when he talked to both of us, right? Or at least, that’s what I’m thinking. Something that we both heard. There was a word in there at the end.”

“I already know what it is, smartass.”

That got him and he looks at me with his eyebrows all scrunched up. I look at him and smile. Take a slow sip of my coffee.

“The fuck you do,” he says, but I can hear the worry in his voice.

“Birthright.” I say to him and wink, not having a clue but also thinking he was onto something.

His turn to smile now. “Nope. It was something like that but he said it twice. Said it was important.”

I do know it now. I got a fuck of a lot better head and memory than Hero here thinks I got. I give him the blank confused look, though and frown. A look that says ‘dammit, I thought I had it’.

“I’ll tell you when we’re done eating here,” he says, “and I’m going take my time, too.”

I finish my coffee and wave at Kinky. “Whatever you say, Hero. You’re the brains of the outfit. I got no choice.”

The waitress comes up walking up with Mick’s coffee and juice.

“Be right back with your eggs,” she says to Mick.

“I’ll have another cup.” I slide it out to her slow. “Oh, and I’ll order now too. What he ordered, except runny eggs and put some hash browns on there for me. ’Kay?”

As soon as she walks away I slide out of the booth.

“Gotta take a big, nasty dump to make some room for breakfast. I’ll be back, sweetheart.” I stop and tap the table. “Don’t eat my hash browns.”

I walk down along the long lunch counter but instead of going left towards the restrooms, I go right. There’s been a slight change of plans. I’m going banking. I start cutting through the tables towards the front.

Mick’s back is to the front door so he’ll be clueless. I’m two steps from the front door and I hear her. Loud, too.

“Hey! Where the hell you think you’re going?”

It’s the bitch waitress and she’s weaving her way towards me. People look up. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mick look over his shoulder.

She walks up on me quick.

I look down at her and lean in with a soft voice. “Get the fuck out of my face, skank.”

She tries to grab my shoulder and I shrug her off. The stupid bitch loses her balance and falls against a table, knocking shit all over the place. A guy, I don’t know, maybe twenty five or so, stands up quick with orange juice all over his pants.

He looks down, looks at me and I look at him. Fucker comes around the table and bows up on me. He starts to say something but I just grab him around the throat with both hands, walk him back to his chair and plant him there. He can’t breathe and I loosen up. Some woman gasps from in back. I hear somebody yell a half hearted “Hey, what the…”

“Listen up, pussy. Sit the fuck down here and eat your breakfast before I hurt you bad…got it?”

I still have him around the throat and the bitch waitress in back of me hauls off and kicks me in the leg. Now, I see a cook coming from behind the counter. I catch his eye and point at him with one hand.

“Tell you what, cookie. You take one step out from that counter and I’ll bang you up so bad you’ll be spitting blood till Friday. I’ll knock you the fuck into the middle of May.”

He freezes, but shit is getting out of control here.

From behind I get hit in the head with something but luckily it gives a little. I let go of the mope’s neck and turn around. Kinky is standing there, holding a big, plastic Heinz ketchup bottle like it’s a little club. She’s pissed but scared. The cap must’ve popped open when she hit me. Ketchup dribbles down her forearm like blood spatter.

I gotta admit, I just kind of lose it now. I go off.

I can see Mick in the background, getting up and out of the booth. So I decide what the fuck. This bitch is gonna pay.

She never sees it coming. I just shoot out a quick jab to her chin and cold cock her. I mean, she goes over like a light pole. All stiff and straight legged. Takes out another table full of shit on the way down. Pancakes and syrup, coffee, eggs and toast fly everywhere.

There’s a short, quiet scream and a few more gasps from the people in the diner. I glance down at her and she’s sprawled out in the pile of broken plates and spilled breakfasts on the floor.

I straighten my jacket and then hear Mick off my left shoulder.

“Where the fuck were you going, Punk?”

That’s when people really started scooching chairs, backing away and trying to be invisible. Mick ain’t no little fucker either and now him and I are getting all squared up on each other.

I look at him and smile.

“To the john, like I said, before Kinky here decided to butt her way into things.”

“The john is out there?” He points outside. His eyes are narrowed and he’s hot. He’s been pissed since he got here. He’s also standing there at a slight angle, one foot and leg a little out in front of the other. Like he’s about ready to do something.

“Don’t, Mick. I’m seeing red here. Just back the fuck off. For once, don’t try to be the hero.”

I see the eyes of a few people go to the door and I can hear traffic outside for a second. I turn around and there is some dumb shit with a newspaper under his arm, standing there, staring. His eyes are big and getting bigger as he takes the scene in. He backs out the same way he came in and the door shuts again.

I turn back to Mick and all I see is knuckles. I don’t know whether it was the punch or just the shock of him hitting me first, but I am out of it for a second. I stumble back and cross my arms over my face. It was a good thing too because he throws three more punches in a fucking heartbeat. Bastard is quick, just like me.

I back up for more space between us, bumping into a chair. I look at him and he is getting ready to fire some more shots. I kick the chair backward with my foot and there was another yelp from behind me. I move quick to my left to throw off any lunge from him and square up again.

“Okay, fucker.” I nod at him. “Okay, Hero. All right. Let’s go.”

At this point it’s library quiet in there and all these breakfast pukes had ring side seats. The loudest sound in the place was the food sizzling on the grill.

I walk in steady like I was going to brawl and dipped my right shoulder, feinting a wild ass right roundhouse punch. He went with it and then I hit him instead with a left hook, right in his side, up into the bottom ribs a little. It lands square. A hard, solid punch. Really hard. I hear a whoosh come out of him. It hurt him and I knew it.

He backs up, I lean in but then he steps in quick again and catches me with a motherfucker of a short choppy undercut. Right square under my jaw. He rocks my ass with that one.

My sight gets blurry and I’m foggy but I don’t back up. If I go backwards right now, he’ll follow that in. I’m a little shaky and if I give him an opening, he’ll take it.

He’s still got that little body twist going on with his side where I hit him. It’s like when you’re trying to hide something that’s hurt, but you can’t help favoring it. It just fucking hurts too much.

I’m not thinking or feeling at this point. We dance a little more and it’s what I need. Just enough time for my head to clear.

I come in on him. He throws a left at my head and I block it enough to where the punch lands on my cheek but there’s nothing to it.

We separate, but I come back at him again. I’m trying to crowd him, not letting him get off. He throws a jab and it connects with my nose. I back off and then charge right back in. This time, though, I do throw the roundhouse right. He thinks it’s like last time, that it ain’t coming. Bang. Right the fuck on his ear.