“Tyler. She got drunk and wandered around a restricted area, and they found her almost in the black. She’s lucky she’s still not in jail.”

Tyler looked down. “I can’t help her.”

Zeke forced him to stand. “Not by getting drunk, you’re not. C’mon.”

Zeke walked Tyler to the left and turned around, gesturing that he’d be back.

“What was that about?” Kansas asked.

“That’s Tyler Maddox,” Watts said. “His girlfriend is a photographer. She wasn’t allowed up on the mountain, so she fell off the wagon and decided to go up on her own. It’s a bad deal. She’s in a lot of trouble.”

“Been there,” Spenser said.

“You put a knife in all four of his tires and sugar in his gas tank. Not the same as wandering the burning wilderness drunk, Spense,” Kansas said.

“So I guess I don’t need to ask if you really put a knife to that guy’s family jewels at the bar. What do y’all do when you get into it? How are you both still alive?” Sugar asked in his deep voice.

Spenser held up the bottom hem of her shirt, showing her four pack and a two-inch long horizontal scar.

“Appendix?” Sugar asked.

“The bitch stabbed me,” Spenser said.

“It was our last fight,” Kansas said. “In my defense, she broke my jaw and I had to eat through a straw for months.”

“Damn,” Sugar said, appalled.

“That’s nothing,” I said. “Our fathers have shot each other … on three different occasions.”

Watts’ eyes widened. “You weren’t kidding about your family.”

Zeke returned. He wasn’t smiling or making light of Tyler’s state in anyway, instead choosing to change the subject. “Everybody up for cards?”

Spenser and Kansas smiled when Watts and Sugar both voiced their willingness to join. The rest of the hotshots peaced out.

We took the elevator to the second floor, then paused long enough for Zeke to unlock his door. Zeke’s room was clean before, but living with men all my life, the absence of any mess was a little suspicious.

“You cleaned a little before we came up, didn’t you?” I asked.

Zeke looked caught. “I told you I’m cleaner than most of the other guys.”

“It’s true,” Sugar said, pointing at him.

“But, yeah,” Zeke confessed.

Everyone took a seat, Spenser and Kansas at the table, Sugar on one queen bed, Watts on the other. Zeke offered me the desk chair.

“Anyone want a beer?” He bent over while simultaneously opening a cabinet under the television, revealing a mini fridge. He opened it, waiting for someone to speak up, which we all did. One by one, he beered us then sat on the floor next to me.

“So if your dads are brothers, how do y’all look so different?” Watts asked.

Spenser, Kansas, and I glanced at each other.