He liked his shit organized and a thousand BikeBro boxes were going to be an organizational nightmare…
“Hey!” Ducky yelled.
Dallas was still bent over the discarded water container on his floor but turned his head to see Donny towering above Ducky, intimidating him. Hushed sounds of music came from the headphones in Donny’s hand.
“What’re you talking about, dumbass?” Donny demanded, angrily.
Ducky pivoted around, outrage clearly etched on his features. He made a grab for his headphones. Donny dodged the move, taking several steps backward, lifting the headphones high in the air out of Ducky’s grasp. Those headphones weren’t wireless. As Donny darted backward, the attached keyboard went flying in the air, slamming Ducky in the back of the head.
“Stop! You’re tearing up my stuff. Give me my headphones!” Ducky kept his cool long enough to disconnect the wire from the keyboard to protect his other expensive electronics from Donny’s intended destruction.
Ducky had to know Donny wouldn’t give easily. Donny bolted backward into the kitchen, Ducky right on his tail. It wouldn’t be the first time for Donny to douse Ducky’s equipment under a stream of water in a burst of out-of-control anger.
“Ducky, who’s this guy you’re talking about?” Dallas intervened, inserting himself between the brothers to stop Donny from moving closer to the sink.
“You’re gonna break ’em.” Ducky growled and ignored Dallas altogether. He made another grab at Donny’s arm who moved this way and that to keep the headphones from Ducky’s reach. “Don’t hold ’em like that. You’re gonna break ’em, and we don’t have the money to replace ’em.”
“Douche, who did you send the box to?” Donny bellowed.
“The guy that used to own Secret. His son. I told y’all about him.” Ducky’s heated frustration built as he squared off with both Dallas and Donny.
“No, you fuckin’ didn’t.” Donny’s unyielding tone sounded icy sharp over Dallas’s shoulder.
Dallas had to defuse the battle as understanding seeped through all the haze of anger swirling around them. “Wait! You know the guy who owns Secret?” he asked his little brother.
Ducky tossed his hands in the air, rolling his eyes as if Dallas were a simpleton. “Noo-wa! I never said I knew him. I know his son…” The bluster suddenly left Ducky who stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking confused. “I’m pretty sure I told you about him. Y’all never listen to me.”
“No, you didn’t fuckin’ tell us anything,” Donny yelled again. “You know we’ve been beating our fuckin’ heads together trying to find money, and you have a lead like Secret in your back pocket?”
“Okay. Okay! Wait!” Dallas finally raised his voice. They had much bigger, more important questions that needed answers. Dallas towered over both Donny and Ducky. He easily plucked the headphones from Donny’s outstretched hand before his brother damaged them any further. “When did you send him a box, Ducky? Has he had time to receive it?”
“Chad’s been taking our classes,” Ducky explained, all his attention on the headphones as he carefully took them from Dallas. He inspected each side for damage as he turned away, walking back into the living room toward his desk. “He thinks we need more classes, but I told him we’re a start-up and there would be more. He wants to see the mirror—”
“Oh. My. God. He’s taking classes and you didn’t tell us? We talked about this! We can single people out, work with them directly. Dammit!” Donny’s hands flew in the air before they fisted, his biceps bulging. Donny’s glacial gaze sharpened as he stared at the back of Ducky’s head. Luckily, Donny took several steps backward instead of going forward, controlling himself so Dallas didn’t have to. “He’s a moron.”
“I am not, and I told you!” They had to get past this point to develop some sort of functioning game plan on how best to proceed. Dallas rolled his shoulders to release some of his irritation. He pointed a finger at Donny, instructing him to cool off, then he went for his youngest brother.
“Ducky, focus for me. Now tell us again about Chad’s father. Is there a way we can talk to him ourselves?” he asked, allowing a bit of hope to soften his inquiry.
Ducky took his seat and put his headphones back on his head, adjusting the fit. “Chad told me his dad’s signing on for classes tonight. He wants to see how it works.”
“Ducky!” Donny exploded, stalking toward them in attack mode. Frustration and rage clearly guided his steps. Dallas instantly intervened. Using brute strength, he put both palms on Donny’s broad chest to keep him from advancing on Ducky as he got right in his brother’s face.
“Calm the fuck down. And think. This is big,” Dallas said. Ducky seemed oblivious to their fight, making a show of putting his equipment back together in exactly the right spots. “It’s Secret! We need to get every one of our members to sign on tonight. We need to do a contest or something on the social site, get all the members active and participating.”
Seconds ticked by before understanding sank in, but Donny’s scowl finally transitioned into a grin. Dallas’s mind raced at the possibility as his heartbeat drummed wildly against his rib cage, sending adrenaline rushing through his veins. It wasn’t too late. This could be the answer to all their problems.
“I’ll call in late and reschedule my clients, but I think Skye should lead the class tonight. I’ll sign on in my second account as a cyclist. I can build a decent speed to give our members something to compete against,” Dallas said, thinking out loud.
“You’re a dipshit.” Donny reached around Dallas to swat at the back of Ducky’s head, dislodging the headphones again. The petty move was designed to give him the last word. Donny had always been an asshole.
Dallas turned a pleading gaze to Ducky, willing him not to throw another fit.
“I’ll call in late to work too, and I’ll go home right now to put the whole site on blast. Talk to Skye. Tell her to wear the new workout gear. I know it’s early, but maybe we should debut the leaderboard tonight,” Donny said.
“Sounds great. This is big.” Dallas’s grin grew as hope filled his heart. Donny must have felt it too because he drew Dallas into a tight bear hug. Ducky deserved all the praise for this one. Tonight might just be the big break they’d been waiting for.
=♥=
The overhead lighting in Greer Lockhart’s uptown Dallas, Texas, office suddenly brightened, taking his concentration and focused gaze up to the ceiling then over to the floor length windows overlooking a patch of winter-dried grass. The dark gray sky caught him off guard. He wasn’t prepared for dusk to already be settling over the hustle and bustle of his busy day. Still in doubt of the time, Greer lifted his cell phone, verifying the hour. Five thirty in the afternoon. Where had the day gone?
Probably the same place the week had gone. Time always flew in the wild chess game of his life. Greer shoved back from his office chair while reaching for his mouse to put his desktop to sleep. He grabbed the small remote control next to his keyboard and pointed it at the panel of television monitors attached to the wall across from his desk.