“Yeah, but it was short-lived. Lost his job for shooting his buddy. Lot of history around this area. Shame. People don’t much care about the history no more. They’re more interested in their damn phones, thumbing away all day on social media sites.”

“I hear that,” Hunter says. He hasn’t touched his phone since they started riding. A couple of times, he had thought about phoning Olivia. Checking in with his uncle. But he has yet to do it.

From the back, a bell dinged and a voice yelled, “Orders up!”

Al turns toward the back and soon is back with three plates—one in each hand, another balanced over his forearm. Laying a plate in front of Hunter, then the other two in front of Itch and Nugget, he says, “Ketchup?”

“Think I’m square.”

Itch says, “I’ll take some.”

“Will do.” Al walks over to a cooler, pulls out a bottle of ketchup, and slides it down to Itch. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Need anything, just holler. I’ll be in the back.” Al pauses, then says, “Also, after you scarf down, you’re more than welcome to shoot some pool or play some video games. Make yourselves at home.”

Without another word, the famished road warriors dig in.

Nugget comes up for air first. “Damn, burger is outstanding!”

Hunter swallows, mumbles his agreement, and takes another bite. Itch, meanwhile, is too focused on the task at hand to speak.

Five minutes and no words later, they are finished. Picking up their beers, they walk into the game area. A skinny man and a big-boned woman are shooting pool. She wears her brunette hair pulled up with red ends. On her neck, a tattoo of a beating heart. The skinny dude stands leaning what little weight he has on his pool stick. Tapping his beat-up boot on the floor as if he has somewhere to be.

“Hurry up, bacon bit. I don’t got all day.”

Bending forward, resting the cue between her fingers, aiming and sizing her shot on the cue ball, she says, “How ’bout you kiss my white ass, Danny.”

“It’s big enough the whole damn town could kiss it all at once. Hell, they could lap that sumbitch. Run a marathon.”

Hunter feels a little twinge of annoyance. His father had always taught him to respect women, saying that regardless of size, looks, or wealth, the female form always has beauty. His father had always shared stories with him about his mother. As a girl, she had struggled with weight. Caught a lot of crap from her schoolmates. Until she lost all her weight her senior year, then bore a child, only to find she had a wild streak. She became a stripper and disappeared.

Laying his beer on the bar, Hunter crosses the room. Approaches the guy. “Pipe it down, show some respect.”