SEVEN

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"I JUST CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD

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"I JUST CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD." Topper rubbed his eyes. "It's just on repeat. 'Your move.'"

Kaleb swung his golf club across the sand then looked over at Topper.

"Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed at your head." Kaleb sighed. "I can't believe my sister hangs out with that freak."

"They're freaking Pogues, man." Topper sighed as he looked down at the golf ball.

The resort was filled with men golfing all over. Kaleb and Topper fit right in with their pastel quarter button-ups and khaki shorts.

"You should get a piece man." Kaleb interrupted Topper's swing. "You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead."

"Okay, look, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine."

Topper swung the ball. Kaleb looked around the horizon as he lifted his hand over his eyes to block the blinding sun.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." He said as he stopped a dark figure.

Pope was walking up the path carrying two bags of groceries. After a hurricane, his father always recruited the Pogues to drop off groceries at resorts and people's homes. Pope kept his head down as he walked up the path.

"I don't think he's a member."

"It's fine, just-just let him go." Topper stuttered as he tried to turn back to the golf game.

"They put a gun to your head, bro." Kaleb continued.

"It's fine. Let's go." Topper tugged Kaleb's arm but he tore it away.

He walked down the small hill and to the path. Topper called after him but Kaleb ignored him. Pope looked up as Kaleb stepped in front of him.

"What's up, man? How much for one of those beers?" He pointed to the twelve-pack nestled underneath Pope's arm.

"They're not for sale." Pope kept walking.

Kaleb put his golf club out in front of Pope.

"Wait, you can just give us one then, right?"

"Or you can order one, like everybody else."

"You're not listening to me though. You've got so many, bro, and we've got nothing." Kaleb smiled.

"Nothin'." Toper echoed Kaleb.

"They're not even mine. They're already paid for." Pope rambled.

"Already paid for?" Kaleb asked leaning forward.

He looked inside one of the grocery bags. He quickly stepped back and swung his golf club down hitting the bag to the ground.

"What the hell?" Pope exclaimed as he backed up. "You owe me for that!"

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