Back at the cabin, Sandy grabbed a six-pack. They sat on the porch and watched the sun drop to the tree line and felt the afternoon air turned cooler. Sandy’s right arm twitched, broken nerves jumping. It happened sometimes; the ghost of his healthy arm jerking with tension. He tried to hide it.
Tanner rose and extended one hand. “Get up.”
Sandy looked at him, silent.
“I mean it, Sandy, on your feet.”
“Who the hell are you giving me orders?”
Tanner slapped Sandy’s beer away. The bottle sailed over the porch railing and landed in the marigold bed. “Move or I’ll do it for you.”
“f**k you.”
“Exactly.” Tanner grabbed Sandy’s shirt and yanked him up.
Sandy tried to push him away. Not a chance with Tanner’s size and strength. He dangled on his tiptoes for a couple of silly seconds, push
