The Red Bead

By HarperKingsley

42 0 0

A connection between two people is called the red thread, but what's a red bead? The rise of Anselm "Devil An... More

The Red Bead

42 0 0
By HarperKingsley

ONE--

Anse was being quiet and withdrawn again, it really brought the mood down. A couple of the girls were shooting him uncomfortable looks as he slouched in the recliner in the corner and sipped from a red plastic cup of too-foamy beer. His left sneaker was half-untied and he didn't look as though he'd combed his hair, just run his hand through it.

"Hey man, it's a party," Lee said. He leaned against the side of the chair, jostling it just a little. He licked his lips at the look Anse shot him and shifted a bit uncomfortably. "You should really lighten up."

"I don't feel like I want to party," Anse said morosely. "I feel more like I want to sit here and not be bothered."

Lee bent down, bringing their heads on the level. He stared straight into Anse's mismatched eyes, not sure which one he thought was prettier--the blue or the brown. "Am I bothering you?" he asked in a husky voice.

Anse gave him a flat-look. "Yes."

Lee straightened up, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "Well then. I won't bother you no more." He made to turn away, but Anse's hand shot out and caught his arm, pulling him close. "What?" he asked.

"Just cause I'm in a shitty mood doesn't mean you have to leave me." Anse took a drink of his beer, then gave Lee a sideways glance. "Do you mind hanging out with me while I'm being a broody fuck?"

Lee grinned, just full on cheese. "Dude, I'd do a lot more than that."

Anse sighed. "Just stay with me. I don't want to be alone right now."

"All right." Lee propped his hip against the chair and stayed there, pretending to watch the party happening around them, but really keeping his eye on Anse. He didn't really mind.

There were times when he thought that he could stare at Anse forever and not ever need to blink. The guy hit his every "Like" button and there was no question about that. Just straight up refined handsome, something that stabbed right through the gut and into the heart or the groin depending on the moment.

Lee had pretty much gotten used to having a permanent hard-on around Anse, and things had definitely moved beyond that. Even if Anse was moody as hell and twice as ornery after too many drinks. In fact, the whole Lotham family were a bunch of loose cannons.

Which was highlighted by the fight building up across the room.

"What's going on over there?" he said, straining to see through the mass of bodies. He was getting that strange effect where the loud, distracting music was making it hard for him to see.

Anse barely glanced up. "Looks like Kyle's about to get into it with Syracuse."

"Should we do something about it?" Lee asked.

Anse shrugged. "It doesn't look that serious."

Lee stared across the room, and was a little pleased when the crowd broke up around the arguing pair enough that he could see them through the standing clots of people. Kyle was right in Syracuse's face, his skin red with anger and a crazy light in his eyes as he argued with the taller man.

Kyle Bonham was one of Anse's cousins, and from all that Lee knew of the guy, he was pure trouble and probably had been from the second he was born. He had a quick temper and a love of alcohol and he didn't believe in apologizing or admitting he'd done any wrong. He was about 5'9" but built like a wrestler, with powerful shoulders and arms that bulged with muscle. He shaved his head bald, which just made him look meaner, and he was definitely the kind of guy Lee could have done without.

Syracuse was just some guy that showed up at the various parties and loved to talk about his home town in California, waxing eloquent about how much he loved it and missed it, and never once mentioning why he'd left it all behind. He was beanpole thin with an Adam's apple that jutted out aggressively and bobbed up and down whenever he just breathed. He looked like he was made out of matchsticks, but he had a reputation for being a bit of a bad ass and for taking down men that were bigger and stronger than him.

Lee could have told him that Kyle was the wrong sort to pick a fight with. Not just because he was pretty terrifying all on his own, but also because he was a Lotham cousin. And the Lothams stuck together.

He could see Keith and James Lotham edging in from the side of the room, and Neil Bonham was standing in the kitchen doorway watching everything through narrowed eyes. They all looked about an inch away from jumping Syracuse if Kyle couldn't handle things on his own. Probably the only thing stopping them from bringing on a group beat down was the fact that Anse was still calmly sitting down.

It was strange, but even though Anselm Lotham was the youngest of the group at twenty-three, he was definitely the one everyone turned to in times of trouble. He didn't seem to even notice it, but he automatically took the leadership role in any situation he entered.

Which is why it was always so upsetting to see him being all broody and down on himself. It made Lee desperate to somehow show him just how important he was to the people around him, not that stubborn Anse would listen if he tried.

"What the fuck...!" The rest was lost in a slurred mumble and a flurry of fists as Kyle threw himself bodily at Syracuse. Except he was really drunk and Syracuse wasn't, and things moved fast and suddenly he was on the ground and Syracuse was kicking him in chest with his yellowy colored engineer boots.

Syracuse was just drawing his foot back for another kick--this one aimed toward Kyle's face--when James and Keith took him from both sides. He still put up a good fight, but Lee could have told him it was already over even before Neil dodged into the fray and gave him three sharp pops to the face--there was a reason why they called Neil "Lightning Fists." Not only was he fast as fuck, but anyone he hit was left pretty close to dead.

There was a faint squeak of springs next to him, and Lee turned his head to see Anse stand up out of the chair and mosey across the room, his shoelace trailing and his shoulders rounded with infinite patience pressed to the limit.

Lee followed after him, just as he always did. It sometimes seemed as though he'd spent his whole life chasing after Anse in one guise or another. But he didn't know any other way to be. Anse had been at the center of his world from the first time they met.

"All right, that's enough," Anse said, stopping his two older brothers and cousin from kicking the unconscious Syracuse.

"He was going to kill Kyle," Keith said. He was dressed all in black as usual, though his jeans were faded more towards gray and his tee shirt was fraying around the hems. His straw blond hair flopped into his eyes and he pushed it back impatiently, his mouth drawn down into a pinched scowl.

"No he wasn't," Anse said. "And even if he was looking to kill Kyle, he's unconscious now and there's no point beating on him when he can't feel it."

"He needs to be taught a lesson," James growled. He wasn't as tall as Keith, but he was burly and there was something about him that just screamed out "danger." He was probably the most aggressive of the three brothers and definitely not the kind of guy Lee would want to go up against.

Anse didn't even flinch from his brother's glare, just shook his head. "I'm not going to be bailing you out of jail if you take things too far." He turned to Neil, the more level headed of the three. "Grab some help if you need it, but dump Syracuse off at his house. He needs to cool off and I'll talk to him later."

"What about my brother?" Neil asked, already moving to grab Syracuse under the arms and get him up.

"Don't worry, we'll take him home with us. You can either pick him up later, or he'll have breakfast with us in the morning."

Neil grinned, showing off a missing eyetooth. "I feel a little jealous now. He's gonna be eating a gourmet meal at your house, while I've gotta make do with a cold bowl of cereal."

"No one's stopping you from showing up," Keith said, grinning. He had a quick temper, but it never lasted after the fight was over.

"All right then," Neil said cheerfully, "I'll just take this guy home." He started hauling Syracuse away, his muscles bunching under his thin white tee shirt. He looked a bit like James Dean from the back and was definitely a lot better looking than his currently unconscious younger brother.

"Why don't you two get Kyle out of here? You can settle him at the house and come back if you want," Anse said.

"Naw," Keith shook his head, "this party's about dead and I think I'm ready to turn in anyway. Come on James, I'll let you drive."

And just like that, all of the aggression was sucked out of the room. The watching crowd dispersed and the laughter and dancing resumed.

Everyone knew the Lothams and their extended family. They were a rowdy bunch that loved to fight and cause a scene wherever they went. But Anse was the undisputed leader of the younger generation and he kept them in line with just a few words or gestures and everyone respected that.

Lee followed Anse back across the room to his brooding chair--no one had even thought to sit in it during his absence, not once it had been claimed by a Lotham--and he stood over Anse and they occasionally shared a quiet word. And the rest of the night was peaceful, and at the end of it all, Lee drove Anse home and made sure he got to bed all right.

Because even though Anse always looked after his family, he rarely if ever thought to look after himself.

But that was why Lee was there. He made sure that Anse was all right and quietly loved him from a distance.

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