BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 203 until he couldn‟t move. Nothing serious, simply a pro forma procedure. When I got there, he was standing right behind the opened driver‟s door, meaning it was between us. “C‟mon, asshole. I‟m gonna finish the ass kickin‟ you deserve. Let‟s go.” He raised his good hand and surprised the hell out of me. Either they never confiscated his illegal weapon, or he had another one just like it. “I‟m gonna shoot you again, motherfucker, but this time it won‟t be in the legs. You‟re gonna die.” To his surprise, I smiled at him. “I don‟t think you can get both of us, you dumb cocksucker. You‟re the one who‟s gonna die.” His eyes took in the area all around me and saw no one. Of course, my old man and that David thing were on the porch, but that was seventy-five feet away, and he did have a gun. “Both of who, prick? You‟re all by your fuckin‟ self.” I laughed again. “Nope. Look behind you, asshole. Your best move is to shoot him instead of me, but it won‟t matter, either way. One of us is gonna kill you in just a couple more minutes.” “I ain‟t fallin‟ for that bullshit. There ain‟t nobody behind me.” Smug and confident, he glared at me in one-upmanship. “Oh, yeah? Thug?” “Grrrrrrrrrrr!” Thug was maybe ten feet behind him, crouched and ready to spring into attack. Brown had a minimal chance of turning in time to get off a shot, but I was worried he might retain possession of the gun after Thug hit him. If so, my dog would probably get shot before we could kill this asshole. The man‟s normally well tanned face went white. Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 204 I told him, “Get your fuckin‟ ass in that car and get the hell outa here now, or we‟re gonna kill you, prick.” He only wasted a few seconds thinking it over, then jumped in his car and tore out of there. The first fifty feet were on the sidewalk, since his wheels were cranked when he floored it. Five months later, at the start of winter, I was working for a man named Tex Dendinger. Tex owned Tex‟s Wrecker Service, which consisted of one old, beat up truck with a wrecker boom. I drove it during the daytime on commission, while he worked at his paying day job. His brother, Bill Dendinger, owned one of the biggest wrecker services in the state, also located in Lansing. Maybe Tex, whose real name was Gerald, was Bill Dendinger‟s “that David thing”, who knows? We‟d called Muth Oil Company for a fuel delivery for the furnace. The driver was Curt Brown. I saw him getting the hoses ready to drag up to the house and leaned out the front door. “Curt Brown, you son-of-a-bitch!” He looked at me and almost shit his pants. I grinned. “Can you shoot any better than you could the last time I saw you?” He didn‟t know what to say, just took a very long time getting those hoses ready. After a while, I went out and shook his hand, since I usually don‟t carry a grudge forever. It‟s not worth the hassle, since a poison can be more harmful to its own vessel than any intended target. He asked if I was still mad at him. I responded, “As good a piece of ass as your wife was, you could‟ve even shot me Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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