Chapter 11

“Stop, Kasey! Pull yourself together.”

He punches the air with both fists, bounces on both feet, and sways a bit because of his night with friends at The Handler Bar. He says to me, “I just want your country boyfriend to know he needs to stop fucking you, Parker! Do you have a problem with that?”

“You’re drunk, Kasey. Let’s go in the house and get you sobered up. We need to put you to bed.”

“Fuck that! And fuck you, cowboy!” Kasey yells. “I’d rather beat the queen out of blondie here!”

Jobe turns to me. He resembles someone helpless but not startled. His eyes look a little sad. “I shouldgo,” he says, walking toward Kasey, keeping to Kasey’s far left, out of the way, preventing more of a scene.

“Stay for a beer, asshole! We both know you probably want to shove a bottle up my boyfriend’s ass to get him off, don’t you? You’ve screwed him with your dick, and now you want to use some Budweiser on him.”