Knuckles.

This story is now part of a Novella called THE LONG WEEKEND: A Sam and Scarlett Mystery.

You can find it here, and there are links to where you can purchase (it’s a free download) the book. I need your support. Thank you.

Terry R Barca

How could you not love a guy who would willingly die for you and not ask why?

 

I knew Knuckles from back in the day.

I put him away for eighteen months, but he never held it against me. “It was a fair cop, and yous was nice to me, called me by name, and never held it against me cos I was dumb.”

 

My wife inherited a conglomerate and enough money to buy heaven, or at least the place next door, and I came along to help her hang on to some of it. There’s a lot of sharks out there, and they aren’t all swimming in Port Phillip Bay.

 

Being rich means that you get invited to lots of charity dos.

I like dressing up, and so does Scarlett. She looks amazing in her ‘get them to donate’ clothes. She’s a smidgen under five feet tall, but no one seems to notice. Some people are taller than their height.

 

Whenever we are out doing the high society thing Knuckles is never far away. He thinks Scarlett is an angel, a sentiment I tend to share.

 

Some moron decided to make a name for himself by knocking off the State Premier, and Scarlett got into the line of fire.

Knuckles stepped in front of the bullet like he was taking a stroll in the park —- he never hesitated —— he saw it coming and just took it.

 

The Premier came to see him in hospital and when he was well enough they put on a civic reception.

Knuckles is an honest sort of guy for a career criminal, and he felt guilty for taking the credit. When the Premier found out that Knuckles was close to being homeless, he pulled a few strings and got him a government apartment rent free, for life.

 

Knuckles opened his mouth to say that he was just protecting ‘his’ Scarlett. I rather rudely interrupted him and told the Premier how pleased my friend was and that he was still weak so I would be answering questions for him. Knuckles just looked a bit bewildered but being a pleasant fellow he did not want to contradict me.

 

Knuckles generally looked like he had borrowed someone else’s skin for the day, and it didn’t quite fit, and on this occasion, standing on stage in front of all those people and all those cameras, Knuckles looked decidedly uncomfortable.

He needn’t have; this was his day.

He saved Scarlett, and he deserved his moment in the sun.

How could you not love a guy who would take a bullet and not expect any thanks?

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