Ring of Fire by Taylor Lee Read Free Book Online

seemed to gain control of his anger.
    “Putting it simple, let’s just say that Cougar and I decided only one of us could be the big man.”
    He swept a telling hand over the grounds and smirked.
    “As you might have noticed, I proved my point. And as for dicks, along with money and power, my dick just keeps growing bigger and bigger. Haven’t checked Cougar’s lately, but I noticed he’s been losing weight, seems like he’s buyin’ a smaller size pants.”
    In the heavy silence that followed, Jeb chugged at his beer. When he’d drained it, he tossed the bottle into a garbage can half filled with empties. Striding over to the refrigerator, he tugged out a Sam Adams. He downed it in three large swallows, confirming that his ‘four or five bottles of beer at night’ were likely preceded by as many in the morning—and likely the afternoon as well. When he turned back toward him, Nate saw that a more familiar gleam had replaced the humor in Jeb’s eyes. Now they were bright with sheer hate. He threw Sam a hostile scowl, then reached back in the refrigerator and hauled out the remaining bottles of Westvleteren. With a sneer he unceremoniously dumped the bottles in the trash can with a splintering crash.
    Grabbing another Sam Adams from the refrigerator, he whirled on Sam. “Next time, try an American beer, Stud. A Sam Adams. Those colonialists had the right idea. They knew that you don’t associate with mongrels. They kept the Injuns and the niggers at bay. The ones they didn’t kill, they boxed up. Put the blackies in the kitchen and the redskins in camps—just like the reservations do today. Kept both groups in their places so they didn’t get uppity ideas about who they are.”
    He offered Nate a Sam Adams. When Nate held up his hands in refusal, Jeb sniffed.
    “Have I embarrassed you, Nate? Talked trash in front of your fine friend? Sounded like some hillbilly racist yahoo?”
    When Nate just glared at him, Jeb turned to Sam.
    “Bet you don’t know that this hardass is a real softie at heart. Nate’s a loyal son of a bitch. Would go to the ends of the earth to protect the people he cares about.”
    Jeb leaned back in his chair and stretched out his long legs crossing them at the ankles. Gazing at Nate through half closed eyes, his voice was soft but there was no denying the edge behind his words.
    “You know, Nate, when you think about it, that’s not such a good thing. Caring that much about someone you love makes you vulnerable. Gives you a soft spot. If the wrong people knew that they’d probably have a pretty damn good way of taking you down.”
    He held Nate’s gaze and took another long pull on his beer. Nate heard the slight slurring in his voice, more confirmation of the cause of Jeb’s fleshy middle. Knowing that Jeb was purposefully taunting him, trying to get a rise out of him, Nate settled back in his chair for the next onslaught. He didn’t have to wait long.
    “I know you check in on Sarah to this day, Nate. Hell, have at her, man. She hasn’t invited me into her bed since I knocked her up ten years ago with our youngest. I could care less. I like my women on the younger, tighter side, if you catch my drift. Guess we have that in common, Nate. But you sure do keep an eye on Melanie, don’t cha? Want to make sure your little goddaughter doesn’t turn out like me, right?”
    He turned to Sam. “By way of explanation, Stud, Melanie’s my daughter. The one I sired in the football stadium bleachers at that fuckin’ homecoming dance twenty years ago. Can you believe that a kid of mine is Nate’s goddaughter?” He scoffed at Nate. “Hell, she coulda been your real daughter if you’d had the balls to screw Sarah before I got to her.”
    Downing another beer, Jeb tossed the bottle toward the trashcan and missed. The glass shattered, sending shards flying across the stone patio. Jeb didn’t seem to notice, just stood up and yanked another bottle from the refrigerator.
    “You don’t