“Why?”

“Because Jack’s in there and so’s Kevin and so’s most of their crew.”

“You fucked up Kevin good today,” I said.

“Christmas came early, yeah.” He chuckled. “Ol’ Kev’s sucking his boiled dinner through a straw for a while, buddy.”

“You broke his jaw?”

“Nose, too. Got the two-for-one special.”

I said, “But, Bubba—in front of Grace?”

“Why not? Lemme tell you something, Patrick, that’s one ungrateful woman you’re dating.”

“You were expecting a tip?” I said.

“I was expecting a smile,” he said. “A thank you or just a grateful roll of the eyes would have been acceptable.”

“You bludgeoned a man in front of her daughter, Bubba.”

“So? He had it coming.”

“Grace didn’t know that and Mae’s too young to understand.”

“What can I say, Patrick? Bad day for Kev, good day for me. Oh fucking well.”

I sighed. Trying to talk social conventions and concepts of morality to Bubba is like trying to explain cholesterol to a Big Mac.

“Is Nelson still watching Grace?” I said.

“Like a hawk.”

“Until all this is over, Bubba, he can’t take his eyes off her.”

“Don’t think he wants to. I think he’s falling in love with the woman.”

I almost shuddered. “So what’re Kevin and Jack doing?”

“Packing. Looks like they’re taking a trip.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out.”

I could hear a slightly deflated edge in his voice.

“Hey, Bubba.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for looking out for Grace and Mae.”

His tone lightened. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.”

Probably a bit more delicately, but…

“Of course,” I said. “Should you maybe lay low a while?”

“Why?”

“Kevin might come back at you.”

He laughed. “So fucking what?” He snorted. “Kevin.”

“What about Jack? He’ll probably have to save face, whack you for banging up one of his men.”

Bubba sighed. “Jack is all bullshit, Patrick. That’s something you never got. He’s made his bones, he’s dangerous, sure, but only to people who’re vulnerable. Not to someone like me. He knows to take me out he’d have to use fucking humungous amounts of manpower and be ready for an all-out war if he misses me. He’s like…when I served in Beirut, they gave us rifles with no bullets. That’s Jack. He’s a rifle with no bullets. And I’m this deranged Shiite Muslim motherfucker driving a truck full of bombs around his embassy. I’m death. And Jack’s too pussy to fuck with death. I mean, this is the guy who got his first taste of power running EEPA.”

“Eepa?” I said.

“E-E-P-A. The Edward Everett Protection Association. The neighborhood vigilante group. ’Member? Back in the seventies?”

“Vaguely.”

“Shit, yeah. They were all good citizens, all geared up to protect their neighborhood from niggers and spics and people who looked at ’em funny. Hell, they rousted me twice. Your old man gave me an ass-whupping, boy, that—”

“My old man?”

“Yeah. Seems funny now, looking back on it. Hell, the whole group only lasted maybe six months, but they made punks like me pay when we got caught, I’ll give ’em that.”