Things had gotten ugly between Malcolm and JJ, who’d been around Winterlight a long time. His father had worked for Malcolm’s father. I was hoping I’d seen the last of him but he showed up where Malcolm, me, and Malcolm’s daughter, Nicky, were having breakfast after church and decided to poke the bear by coming over to our table.
“Ain’t this a pretty picture,” JJ said.
“It was, until you showed up,” Malcolm said.
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna get what’s mine, Mac, and soon.”
“You have what’s yours, JJ, and then some.” Malcolm ran the index finger of his free hand down the handle of his fork, then along the knife’s edge. His eyes had hardened to the same shade of cold silver as the utensils. “If you know what’s good for you, you will go far away, and you will stay there.”
My eyes strayed to JJ’s belt buckle, then wandered up to his face. It had turned an unflattering shade of dark red.
“Or, what?” he asked on a derisive snort.
“You’ve gotten off easy so far. That’ll change.”
JJ leaned close. He smelled of engine oil.
“Don’t get in my way, Mac. I’ve had everything that’s yours already, one way or another.” He raised his hand toward me. “This one—”
Malcolm rocketed out of his seat. I flinched and clamped my hand on his arm before a piece of cutlery became embedded in JJ’s chest.
Join me tomorrow for V is for Velvet.
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