Comin' Home to You (8 page)

The youngest of the litter was Clint, who was proving to be the craziest of the siblings. Scar loved his baby brother, but there were times when even he had problems with Clint. While the kid had his issues with drugs and alcohol, Scar didn't deem that his main problem. His main issue with Clint was his unpredictability. He once threw a pound of salable high quality meth into a creek just because the man who manufactured it had sex with his oldest sister back in high school.

A lot of his crazy had to do with his size. While the majority of Grayson men were tall and brawny, Clint was short and scrawny. That caused him to lash out easily, especially if his stature was slighted. Scar believed Clint had been in more fights in a week than most people do in their entire lives. Another thing that sometimes gave him restless nights were the rumors that Clint beat his fiancé. Scar trusted his brother, and believed the rumors to be lies and fabrications. But if there ever was a day when he witnessed those rumors come true...well, that was a thought that he quickly erased from his mind.

But it returned as quickly as it vanished. He didn’t have a problem with Clint's fiancé, Ali. Scar actually liked her. She had a good sense of humor and could drink like the rest of the boys. But the real reason he wanted to climb the ladder of the Roaring 20’s was for their son, Austin. He was the first Tomkins-Grayson cross, and he would carry the Grayson name into the future. Before his disappearance, Roy had two girls with a stripper out of Tyler. She didn’t stay around long after Roy never came home. While he loved his family, Scar sometimes had to remind himself that he had two nieces out there somewhere. He had no children himself, so the only one he could groom to be the next outstanding Grayson was the young Austin.

Austin wasn’t the only Grayson in existence. He also had numerous cousins that helped him in his line of work, but while he looked out for them, he never thought of them as real family. Yet, every member of the Grayson family, including some older than him, looked up to Scar as the patriarch of the clan. While being one of the highest ranking members of the Roaring 20's, he was also the most proven of the Graysons. It was a family that valued strength and no one was going to step up to challenge his claim. There was no question that he was the strongest.

For a while, Scar was surprised that Austin had been the only offspring from the young couple, since Clint bragged about how much he fucked her. But upon visiting their house a couple years back, he found enough Plan B to last an entire lifetime in a closet. It was for the best. Those two weren't the greatest parental figures. Sometimes he wished he could take on the role of legal guardian of the boy, but even Scar understood that it would be a foolish action, especially with his line of work. He didn't want Austin to follow in his footsteps. He would prefer his nephew lead an honest life and hopefully destroy the drug addicted dealer stigma the Graysons had stomached for the past couple of decades. So far, Austin was on the straight path. But it wasn’t thanks to him. It infuriated him, but Owen had done a bang up job raising the boy so far. Yet, the thought of that man made his eyebrows furrow and dark thoughts take residence in his mind.

While Nicky prepared to strike the cue ball for his next shot, Scar noticed the entrance door open. Even in such a relaxing atmosphere, he always kept his guard up, keeping track of everyone who came in and out of the bar. It was just how he was. He was not paranoid by any means, just careful. Being careful has kept him alive so far.

Entering Lee's at the midnight hour was the town's resident party animal, Bubba. He had a bartending job at a bar and grill called Louie's during the day, but at night, he was well-known as the man that was up for anything. He'd take any drug, have sex with any girl, and perform any ridiculous action for the hell of it. He was a man who enjoyed the attention. On his best days, Scar deemed him as tolerable, but most of the time, he was a pain in the ass. Clint and his crew tolerated him a lot better than he did, as he hung out with them more often. Bubba made things worse by regularly believing he was a member of the Roaring 20's. The most he had ever done was travel with a distant cousin of Scar's to oversee a very small exchange. Since then, he considered himself a strong asset of the outfit and assumed he was good friends with Scar.

After grabbing two longnecks at the bar, Bubba approached the two men gleefully. “What the fuck is up!? Man, fuck. Louie's was busy tonight. What are you boys up to?”

Nicky held the same feelings that Scar harbored for Bubba. He only looked up at him for a moment before sinking another shot. “Fuckin' playing pool. What's it look like?”

Bubba guffawed, oblivious to the two men's disdain for him. “Man, you guys crack me the fuck up. What the fuck are we doing tonight?”

Scar sighed. He desired to smash his empty beer bottle that remained in his hand over Bubba's nose. Such thoughts gave him a moment of bliss. While Bubba equaled him in size, he knew he would absolutely destroy him. Yet, it wasn't worth the effort. Scar wasn't like his younger brother, who would start a fight for something he perceived as an insult. He had no intention of wasting energy and effort in meaningless combat. So, sighing and imagining himself beating the shit out of Bubba was the appropriate answer.

It was a relief when Nicky answered for them. “What are we doing? This, I guess. Why ain’t you with Clint?”

“You know Shawna Box?”

Nicky strategized his next move, but the 8 ball was partially blocked off. He weaved his head back and forth, looking at every possible angle before replying. “The black girl?”

“Yeah, man. Heard some shit that she was comin’ out here tonight. I had to come see. Man, I always wanted a piece of that black ass. I’m gonna get in that box if I see her, you know what I am saying?”

Nicky replied with a stoic nod. Scar’s fantasies with Bubba now involved a chainsaw.

Bubba took a drink of his brew. “I’m off tomorrow night. We got any gangsta shit going down tomorrow? I’m down, you boys know I am.”

“Mind your own business, Bubba,” replied Scar, unable to take another word.

Bubba's face clenched up, but quickly relaxed. Even he knew going up against Scar was a death sentence. “Man, just seeing what was going on. Damn.”

Nicky cheered loudly as he miraculously knocked in the 8-ball to mitigate the awkward silence. Scar didn't even get a chance to play. When it came to pool, Nicky was the best around. Feeling generous, Nicky waved his empty beer bottle to Scar, notifying him if he wanted to go another round. Scar nodded, eager and thankful for another beer.

As Nicky walked to the bar, Bubba slowly approached Scar. “Say man, I saw your brother-in-law at work last night.”

Scar's face wrinkled in scorn. “He's not my fucking brother-in-law.”

“Whatever. Anyway, man, that dude was acting weird as shit. He fucking walked out on his tab, and Grace dumped his ass. It was something else. Grace said he threw up and may have been crying and shit. Not sure what the fuck is wrong with him.”

Scar remembered Grace. He had her a year before Owen got to her. Her body was quite pleasing. Curves in all the right places, big breasts, and a friendly smile. Sexually, however, she was disappointing. Other people he knew thought she was amazing in bed, but she wasn't to his liking. Having a degree of control is a requirement sexually for him. Grace was a little too talkative and liked to change positions without asking him first.

Yet, he enjoyed hearing tales of Owen's failures in life. This also gave him a chance to pick up some more intel on the man. “What do you mean weird? He didn't pay his tab? Could he not afford it?”

“Yeah, he paid it. But what was weird as fuck was that he didn't even drink all that much. But he was drunk as fuck, man. And shit, man, the guy looks like a fuckin' walkin' skeleton. He was asking me weird fuckin' questions too. Like, hell, he was asking me what I would do if I knew I was gonna die or some shit. That guy's lost his fuckin' mind, if you ask me.”

Owen Tomkins had always been a symbol of enmity for Scar. But, it was how it was. The Tomkins and Graysons had feuded for generations. His father and Owen's father had initially resisted that fate, breaking a long tradition of hatred and becoming friends at an early age. Most members of the two sides were hesitant about the new friendship, but being in a feud was a long and tiring process, and they were looking for some sort of reprieve. There was a lot of hope that the two boys would be the pioneers to finally put this squabble to rest.

However, hostilities remained, even in times of peace. Right after the two boys turned 18, they created a plan to rob a small convenience store outside of Athens during the night. They didn't have any real reason to rob the store besides a pocketful of cash, nor did they have any motive to hold a poor late night employee up at gunpoint to take the cash from the register. They were just delinquent boys being delinquent boys. As the elder Grayson entered the closed store in the dark of night, Andy Tomkins showed his true colors by tipping off the police and fleeing the scene. Buddy Grayson, the man holding a gun, was arrested. Since Graysons were known for their criminal history, he was given a year in jail on his first felony. A cousin of Scar's father, looking to prove himself to the family, stalked Owen's uncle, who was 16 at the time. The cousin used the pretense of the arrest as an excuse to exact revenge. When the young teenager went walking in the woods, the Grayson cousin had his opportunity. From fifty yards away, he shot the young Tomkins boy in the back with a .30-06 rifle. The bullet went straight through his heart, killing him almost instantly. The cousin didn't resist when the police came for him. He proudly exclaimed that there would be more dead Tomkins in the future. If his plan was to scare the rest of the grieving family, it worked. Every single member of the Tomkins clan, except Owen's father, packed up and left town. Scar remembered Owen's dad as a defiant and stubborn man. His oldest son was the same way, though he admired the father more than the son.

Scar wasn't quite sure what it was about Owen that he hated so much. He hated any member of the Tomkins, but he immensely abhorred Owen. He just seemed so fake. His attitude was quietly overwhelming and annoying, and Scar hated how Owen considered himself to be the ultimate paramour. Sure, he had bagged his fair share of women, but Owen made it seem like a huge deal. If he had any friends, he’d probably brag about each and every conquest. Sadly for Scar, even that wasn't the main reason he despised him. From all the information he had gathered from his friends within the business, Owen was the last man his older brother Roy visited before he went missing. He imagined his older brother tried to extort some money out of Owen or use him to his advantage, something he was prone to do. His brother was never seen again after the meeting. Scar was sure there was foul play. Hell, he would bet every dollar he owned that Owen killed his older brother. He could never prove it, however. Roy had enough enemies as it was, and Scar was not about to torture and kill a man simply based on rumors. He preferred to hint such accusations to Owen, just to see his reaction. For over 10 years, he maintained a straight and innocent facade when playfully interrogated. Yet, Scar felt like the time for his enemy to crack was coming. The weight of all that guilt must have been crushing him these past 15 years. When that day comes that Owen breaks under the pressure, Scar would be there, with all of his torture tools ready for use.

It was fortunate that Nicky had returned with a fresh beer. Thinking of Owen made his blood boil. He wasn't the type to want to hurt something just for the hell of it. But whenever a Tomkins came to mind, especially Owen, his hatred turned into a vicious malice. Bubba's face looked especially beatable in that instance. Instead, he turned his attention to the beer, chugging it down in mere seconds.

“Damn, boy!” said a weirdly excited Bubba. “Motherfucker can drink!”

Nicky smirked. “I would have brought two if I knew you were going to smash that down.”

Scar belched, then wiped his lips off with the back of his hand. His eyes stayed lowered to the ground. Once again, an odd memory emerged, a memory where he recalled Owen chugging down a beer at Louie’s to impress a waitress. He couldn’t even drink a beer without somehow thinking of that Tomkins dick. Just one mention about him from Bubba and his whole night was ruined. Something had to be done.

“My nephew has a baseball game Monday. We’re going.”

Nicky unsurely agreed, though a bit jumbled. “Alright, man. It’s not like we missed one yet.”

“I know. But we are definitely going.”

“Man, I gotta work Monday, or else I'd go see that shit,” said Bubba, unaware that no one was listening to him.

“Is it a special occasion or something? Is Austin pitching? Is that it?” Nicky put a longneck to his lips, then put it back down after realizing he picked up an empty one.

Scar had a sly smile on his face. “We’re gonna give our good pal Owen a visit.”

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Ali leaned back against the suede couch after taking a strong hit of the noxious crystal methamphetamine. She placed her ebony colored pipe onto the table, then quickly took a shot of Jim Beam. She felt her throat and lungs burn, but that just meant it was all working.

“Girl, you are a fuckin’ trooper!” drunkenly giggled Ali’s friend Jolie, who was sitting next to her.

“Ain’t no big deal.”

On the other side of the couch, Tasha followed Ali’s actions, inhaling some smoke from her pipe and taking a shot, but of a Bacardi rum. “Whoooo! Damn!”