AN: Ok, here's the next chapter. And if this is going to continue to be the story no one seems to read I'm going to stop posting it here. Posting this story here takes extra time and effort on my part. And I don't mind that time and effort, seriously. But if it's extra effort I'm expending for no good reason because most of the people who seem to be reading the story read it on the other board it's posted on as well, than I might as well just post it there, not have to rewrite it, and email it to the one other person who's not a member of 'A Few Good Men' who likes to read it. Call it my 'artist' having a fit moment. But I don't make money off doing this. I do it to grow as a story teller and to amuse people. So if I can't grow because no one comments and it seems like no one reads it, so no one's enjoying it, it lacks a point to keep posting it here. I'm not a big fan of wasting my time. Did I do something? I get the valid point from the person who said they don't want to review every chapter because they don't always have everything to say. But literally almost no one seems to read the story. I can't help but feel it's either because it's just not interesting to this audience, or because this audience has something against the story's writer. Ok, insecure, bitter tirade over now. On with the story.

The Funeral of a Good Girl

By – TempestRaces

Chapter twenty-one – On Romeo and Pretty Women

They walked into the bar and Tempest watched as Vince was greeted by over half the place on sight. She was introduced to everyone who had said hello and shortly there after found herself with a rum and coke in one hand and a pool cue in the other. "I'm no good at pool," she told Vince.

"I'll teach you," he answered and led her over to a table where a man in a Harley Davidson tee shirt stood waiting. Vince greeted the man as Bryce before introducing her to him.

"Tempest?" he asked with a grin.

She took an immediate liking to the new man she had been introduced to as Bryce. She stuck her hand out with a smile. "That's me."

"That your real name?"

"Yep, always has been."

"A unique name for a unique woman," Bryce said, before raising her hand to his mouth and planting a kiss over her knuckles.

"Back off Romeo. She's not for you," Vince said. His tone was jovial, but his friend knew him well enough to pick up on the serious tones under the playful exterior.

"Oh I don't know V," she glanced up at him over her shoulder, a grin on her face. "He might be a model up from what I'm drivin' now."

Bryce laughed at her barb even as Vince grabbed her around the waist and nipped the side of her neck in punishment for what she'd said. Vince looked up at his friend, his chin still pressed against the soft spot between her neck and shoulder. "Rack 'um up. Me'n the novice'll take you on."

"You're on." Bryce began to load the coloured balls into the triangular rack. "You guys break."

"You're up, Trouble."

"I'm no good at this," she warned again.

"Anyone can break. Just hit the cue ball into the rest of the balls as hard as you can."

"You're the boss," she answered and moved to the end of the table. She put the white ball in the appropriate place and bent over, taking aim with her cue. The men stood at the other end of the table waiting for her to break the balls.

"Stop looking down her dress," Vince whispered to his friend out of the corner of his mouth.

"I can't. I can't believe a girl like that is here with you. What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"'Cause if a girl like that is willing to be seen in public with a guy like you, there must be a catch."

"Yeah, she's Jesse's cousin and she's from Canada. She's only here for two weeks."

"That's the catch. Two weeks between those legs couldn't ever be nearly enough."

Vince growled. "I don't want you lookin' at her legs, let alone thinking of what's between them."

Bryce laughed so hard he had tears running down his cheeks. "You got it some bad Coyote."

"No I don't," Vince protested hotly. "But she ain't the kinda girl you think she is. She don't sleep around, and while she's here she's mine."

"Unless she can get the keys to the next model up."

"She also has a smart ass, sassy mouth and loves to turn it on me. Don't take her seriously. We fought and she's not done makin' me pay for my role in it all yet."

With a crack, the white ball slammed into the coloured balls at the other end of the table and broke into their conversation.

Tempest watched as the balls rolled around on the blue felt top of the table. Two solid balls and one striped one went down. "Ok, so remind me here. Does that mean I can be either high or low?"

"You can always be high or low right after the break. It makes sense to be low, since you got two of those balls, but you can go either way," Vince told her.

"Do I have to call the shots?"

"Yeah, that's part of the rules."

She sighed. "Why'd you have to pick tonight to start playin' by the rules?"

Bryce laughed. "She's got you there man."

"Brotha, she's on my team playing against you. If you really wanna play against us not callin' shots, it's your funeral."

"Calling the shots it is." Bryce watched as Tempest pouted. "Sorry little girl, but I ain't trying to play against the Coyote if he has any extra advantages."

"He's that good at this?"

"He's that good at this," Bryce confirmed.

Tempest went back to studying the table. She knew she was aiming for the solid balls, but she couldn't decide which of the solid balls on the table was her best chance at getting it in the hole. Vince walked up behind her and leaned in close.

"Go for the two ball into the corner pocket," he whispered directly into her ear.

"I can't get the two ball into that pocket. That other ball is in my way," she hissed back.

"Watch," he said, wrapping his arms around her and guiding her into a different position. "Hit the cue ball on this angle, bank it off the side of the table, and it'll hit the two ball hard enough to knock it into the pocket." He called the shot and helped her hit the cue ball. She squealed in delight as the ball went into the hole she wanted it to.

"It worked."

"Of course it worked. Now pick another one," Vince answered, laughing at her exuberance.

"Um, the five?"

"Yeah, we can get the five." Vince called the shot and again wrapped himself around her. "Just about half force," he said softly against her ear. "If you hit it too hard it's gonna hit the edge and it won't go in." Her ass was pressed against his fly because of how he was standing behind her. It was taking all his concentration and willpower not to get an erection in the middle of his favourite bar. Like she knew it, she wiggled around in front of him. He was sure if he asked her why, she'd tell him something about trying to get into a better position to shoot the ball, but he knew better. He helped her cock the cue back and hit the white ball. The five ball went into the pocket.

She laughed again. "We're winning!" They missed the next shot and Bryce moved over to the table.

"Not for long you're not."

Bryce managed to sink three of his balls in a row before he missed one.

"Aw, that's really too bad. You were doin' so well too," Tempest taunted as she sauntered back over to the table. She set her drink down on a shelf mounted on the wall for this purpose and picked up the cue. She was studying the table to try and pick a shot when Vince came up behind her again.

"You still can't pick a shot?"

"I'm just not sure which one I can get."

"You likely can't get any of them. But we can get that one," Vince pointed at one of the remaining solid balls. They shot the ball, got it in the pocket they called and ended up winning the game. They played several more games against Bryce, who eventually ended up with a partner himself.

When she cried off playing pool for awhile, the two friends decided to have a serious game together. Tempest drifted off toward a dart board on the other side of the room. She wasn't really any good at darts either, but since they were there, she figured she could throw a few anyway. She'd been tossing darts for a few moments when a voice interrupted her.

"Sugar, you're doin' that all wrong."

Tempest looked up at the newcomer who'd decided to deride her dart throwing skills. She laughed at him instead of getting mad. "I know. I have no idea what I'm doing here."

"For one, you can't play darts without a drink in your free hand. You need it for balance." He handed her his beer.

"I don't drink beer."

"You don't need to drink it. Just hold the bottle in your hand there." He went and retrieved her darts, handing them back to her. "Now try it again."

She threw one of the darts, beer held around the base in her left hand, dart in her right. She hit the green circle around the bulls-eye. "Well fuck me, it worked."

"Told you. So, what brings someone like you to a place like this?" He looked her over from head to toe. She was dressed to the nines, but talked like any other rough and ready chick they had in the place. She was at odds with his expectations of a girl in 'their' bar.

"Not what. Who. My friend Vince brought me here."

"You're here with Vince?"

"Yeah," Tempest glanced over at her companion before launching another dart. "Why?"

"Didn't know he had a girl."

She shrugged. "We don't chose to label our relationship that way," she grinned.

"Oh, now see the ladies around this place see Vince as one of our most eligible bachelors. They're all trying to catch him. If he brought any of them here personally, they'd want labels."

Tempest smirked, the line from one of her favourite movies slipping out without a pause. "Oh, I'm not trying to catch him. I'm just using him for sex." She figured it was the right answer when he roared with laughter.

He introduced himself as Brett after he had his breathing back under control. They continued on playing darts together. Her game seemed to get better as the night wore on. She couldn't figure if it was because of the tips that Brett gave her, or because her glass was again never allowed to empty. As they played she occasionally glanced over at where Vince was still playing pool—or knowing Vince, likely hustling pool—at the corner table. She was surprised he allowed her to do her own thing, and talk to the other men without a chaperone, but every time she caught him looking at her, the looks that passed between them were almost alive with tension.

By the time two thirty in the morning rolled around, they were still hanging out at the bar. The mostly classic rock being played seemed to appeal to his date, Vince mused as he watched her talk to Bryce and a couple of his other friends. As he watched, Bryce slipped away from the group he was in the middle of and came to stand beside him.

"Take your woman home brotha. If the looks between the two of you get any hotter, you're gonna burn the place down. Take her back here sometime though. She's pretty damn cool."

"Yeah, she is."

Bryce seemed lost in thought for a moment. He was debating the sanity of what he was about to say. "You could do a lot worse, V. In fact, I'm not sure if you'll ever do better."

"Don't you start too!" Vince growled. "I hear it all day long at home. Do I have to hear it from you too?"

"I guess so, 'cause it hasn't sunk in yet."

"Brotha, she's goin' home in a week or so. Gettin' attached to her wouldn't do me a bit of good."

"You said her cousin lives down here, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Jesse lives with us."

"So she might decide to jump ship if she had a reason to."

"So says Jesse. But she wouldn't. We talked about why she won't give in to Jess, who has been after her to move down here for years already. She won't move for him just yet and she wouldn't for me either."

"You asked her too!"

"No, I asked her why, when she obviously loves Jesse like a brother, why she won't give into him and move down here. She could make good enough money to drive or fly home to visit at least once a year, and she's got a tight ride, so she could win at races for some coin too. But she said she's not ready yet."

"Why not?"

"Naw, I'm not gonna go into that with you. That's her business. Just she ain't ready is all you need to know. I ain't sure she's grown enough to move away from her mom and family yet either."

"She sure looks grown enough from here. Don't tell me she's a kid."

Vince shrugged. "She's nineteen. Old enough, I suppose."

It was Bryce's turn to shrug. "Just don't kid yourself too long about just how attached you are already V. Look at how you look at her, how you reacted when she teased about picking me up. What if she lands back down here next year or the year after with a different man on her arm?"

"Than you'll be getting that three am phone call you've been dreading for years. That I need help disposing of the body."

"See!"

"I don't care what she does at home, but down here I won't watch her with another guy."

"But you won't be her guy either."

"I'm hers enough that I brought her here, that she's goin' home with me tonight. Neither of us want it more defined than that."

"Alright already. I get it. You're one stubborn hombre." Bryce moved to walk away. "Shit, here, before I forget." He handed Vince an envelope. "From Stephen. Job for next week I think. You'n me, if it is."

"Cool. I'll call you next week."

With a wave, Bryce walked away and Vince walked into the middle of the crowd of other guys to retrieve his girl. "You ready to head for home, Trouble?"

"Yeah," she yawned behind her hand. "I am."

"Ok, let's go then," he said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket.

"Nice to meet you all," she told the group at large with a smile and a wave, as Vince led her toward the door.

A chorus of 'you too's and 'good nights' replied to her farewell.

Once she was in the passenger seat of the Maxima, reclined back in her chair, she yawned again. "I like your friends."

"They like you too. Even if you are just using me for sex," he laughed.

"Seemed like the right thing to say at the time," she answered, slightly embarrassed her quip had made it back to him.

"Given what Brett then had to say about you, it was totally the right thing to say. They all think you're the coolest girl since Angelina Jolie."

"I'm sure that's slightly exaggerated."

"Nope," he answered. When she didn't have a comeback to make, Vince turned the radio on and tuned in a classic rock station. As the relaxing sounds of Kansas started to drift around them, he was surprised to hear her start to sing along.

"Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more."

He liked the sound of her. He would have liked to have his guitar so he could play for her and just let her sing to his music. When the song ended, he glanced over at her. "You have a nice voice."

"I'm ok, I guess. I used to sing in a choir when I was a kid and I had to audition to get in, so I musta been ok."

"You're good. You should take up the guitar or piano too."

"I'll think about it."