Free Under His Spell by Kelly Favor Page B

minutes,
the two guys loaded lots of stuff inside their truck, and they just kept going
and going and going.
    Usually delivery trucks delivered product to a bar, they didn’t
remove it.   That in and of itself
was quite weird.
    The strange scene got a lot weirder when
a fourth man appeared, walking out of the building and approaching the three
other guys with a very agitated expression on his face.
    Kennedy registered that this new person
on the scene was Dean—she’d seen his picture on Facebook the previous day—and
he was clearly unhappy.   Dean Rather
had brown hair, slicked back over his head in a hairstyle that was fashionable
in the eighties or early nineties.   He was handsome, with features reminiscent of Easton, but somehow rougher,
as if he’d lived a much tougher adult life.   He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt,
and he had a close beard.
    When Dean got closer to the big bald man,
what was clearly an argument ensued.   Dean was gesturing at the two guys moving boxes out of his bar and into
their truck, pointing at them and yelling, his face reddening.
    Kennedy picked up her phone and started
photographing the scene, wanting to have physical evidence to refer back to if
necessary.
    Dean yelled and gesticulated for a little
bit, while the big bald guy remained passive, arms still folded, just watching
him as he yelled and waved his arms.
    Kennedy rolled down her window, but she
was too far away to hear much of what Dean was saying.   She caught a few phrases that didn’t
mean a whole lot to her.
    He said something about “going over his
head” and “pillar of the community.”   And then he waved his arms and said, “why don’t you burn the place
down,” seeming to refer to his own bar.   But Kennedy had no idea if Dean was being serious or sarcastic.
    Meanwhile, the two other men continued
loading the delivery truck, not seeming to pay much attention to what Dean was
saying or doing.
    Kennedy continued to take pictures, her
heart beating fast as she watched the situation developing.   She had a deep sensation in her gut that
things were starting to unravel, that something bad was about to happen—she
just wasn’t sure what.
    When the dramatic moment occurred, it
still surprised her, even though she’d felt it coming.
    One second, Dean was yelling and
pointing, and the bald guy was just watching him freak out.   The very next second, the bald man had
grabbed Dean by the throat and pinned him against the building.
    Dean’s face was turning purple and his
eyes bulged out of his head.   The
big bald man, although heavy, was not just some out of shape fat man.   Beneath the extra pounds, Kennedy could
see the bulges of muscle in his biceps and chest, like a slightly past his
prime athlete.  
    He pinned Dean to the wall and held him
there, choking him.   Then he leaned
his face against Dean’s face and said something too low for her to hear.
    Kennedy had no idea what he told Dean,
only that when he finally let him go, Dean fell to his hands and knees,
coughing and sputtering.
    She took as many pictures as she could,
wanting to be able to show Easton what had happened to his brother, although
she still had no real idea why any of this was happening, what they were even fighting
about…
    Suddenly, the big man kicked Dean in the
ribs, sending Dean rolling on his back, clutching his torso and writhing in
pain.
    Kennedy snapped another picture and
another.   Should she call 911?   How far could she let things go before
trying to put a stop to it?
    The bald man’s sunglasses had fallen to
the ground during the scuffle, and as he bent down to pick them up, he glanced
up in time for Kennedy to snap a perfect picture of his face without his sunglasses
to mask him.
    Unfortunately, he also looked straight at
her as she took the picture.   He
picked up his sunglasses and continued looking at her, a grin appearing on his
face.   “Hey!” he called out, gesturing
to her.   “You get a good