As Vernon climbed into his car Brendan stepped so close to him he was no longer able to shut the door. Brendan looked down at him, one arm resting on the doorframe. There was a bruising around the edges of his eyes, on his throat, that Vernon had not before noticed. A sneer in his eyes. This man who had beaten his son.

‘You get what you wanted?’ he asked.

Vernon shrugged. ‘What I’d really like is for you to take a giant step back so I can shut my door.’

Brendan snorted and wiped a hand across his nose. Purple lined his neck. He straightened up but was still close enough to block the door. Vernon, childishly, wanted to kick his shins. ‘You raised a real good one there,’ Brendan said.

‘You trying to bait me, son?’

Brendan grinned again. ‘No. Nothing like that.’

‘I got two words for you: piss off.’

Vernon leaned across Brendan’s body and managed to lay hold of the handle. He pulled at the door. Brendan didn’t move. Vernon sighed and put his hands on his legs.

Brendan said, ‘You need to know something, old man. There’s no way your boy is getting off that easy. I decide what I do, not my father.’

‘Could’ve fooled––’

‘Things might quiet down for a bit but your son will get what’s coming to him, one way or another.’

He stopped talking, thrummed his fingers across the metal of the door.

‘I saw her, you know. I’m not just letting that go.’

Vernon looked at this large man before him. He said, ‘I remember you, at school. Remember some of the other teachers talking about you. You were one of those kids always up the back of the oval, smoking. Right?’

Brendan nodded.

‘Yeah, I remember. Bit of a dipstick, they said. There’s no shame in it. Some people are born with brains and some aren’t. You and your mates up the back smoking didn’t have a couple of brain cells to rub together. Bet you smoke half the weed you grow and that’s just killing more of the limited power you got up there.’ Vernon pointed at Brendan’s forehead. ‘What I’m saying is: you don’t have the balls, or the brains, to go against what your old man says. He’s the alpha male and you’re just some runt dog in the pack with a few muscles behind you. My boy’ll be just fine. Now move your damn leg before I snap it off you.’

He looked into Brendan’s eyes and saw little there. They flitted from his face to his leg to the door to the fence post. He had certainly comprehended what Vernon said but if he planned to do anything with the insult, he was taking his damn time. The threat was absurd. Vernon was half his size, was half his size on his best day.

Brendan stepped back, allowing Vernon to shut his door. ‘Thank you,’ Vernon said. As he reversed down the driveway he looked back at Brendan as he stood there watching and said, ‘Mongrel,’ under his breath. Violent men were almost always stupid as well. They couldn’t argue their way out of things, so they hit their way out instead. A cornered rat used what teeth it had.