Max awoke from a series of slaps across his face. He smacked his lips and looked blearily over at a shadow of a man. It was Eddie. They were driving in the car they had recently smoked pot in. The street they drove on was of his address.
“Morning, sunshine,” Eddie said with a sardonic grin.
“What happened?”
“What happened is you got your ass kicked. And by a scrawny little shit. Didn’t I tell you that would happen? Or was it Timothy who had said it would happen… either way, you got your ass kicked and you’re probably the only one who’s surprised by it. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you had an audience of two chicks cheering Timothy on as it happened.”
“Dude! Why didn’t you help me?” He touched his swollen mouth and hissed. He felt a gummy gash from his temple down to his jaw and gingerly ran a pair of fingers over it, transferring coagulating blood to them.
“If I have to tell you one more time that I’ll get fired if I interfere, I’m going to kick your ass myself.”
Max tightened his fists, nearly said something taunting, but thought better of it. Eddie was a pretty big guy himself, and his confidence suggested he was no stranger to brawling. And if he were to get his ass kicked twice in one night, he might as well kill himself. Nobody should be that fucking pathetic.
“Damn,” Max said and rolled his head back to the head-rest. “I knew I shouldn’t have smoked that. Prick had me at a disadvantage. Take me back, I’m going to fuck up that stuttering little punk.”
Eddie gazed over speculatively at Max. “You want to?”
Max considered it. “Maybe not this minute. I’m high still. I’ll come back when I’m clear-headed.”
“Yeah, you’d probably just get another ass-kicking.” Eddie slowed down as he neared Max’s house. “You’re not going to see Timothy again unless I say to. Understood?”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” He pointed a threatening finger at Max’s face and said, “If you stop by without my permission, I’ll do more than kick your ass: you’ll be hanging from a Stoddard tree by a noose that I fitted. Got it?”
Max looked away, unnerved by the image.
Eddie rolled to a stop at the curb. “Now get your ass out of here. I got shit to do.”
“How’d you know where I live?”
“Don’t worry about it. Remember what I said… you’ll be hanging from a tree, that’s a promise. Now get the fuck out. You are no longer allowed to speak to Timothy. Tell Reynold and all the others: fucking with Timothy means fucking with me, and there’s plenty of land on the Stoddard farm to bury you all.”