Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 8

Beth ran to the bedroom door and opened it, letting Juliette in. “Thank you thank you,” she said, shutting and locking the door. “I’m wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.” She went back to pacing.

Juliette moved her shades to the top of her head and put up a stop-sign hand, nodding. “Fear is good and normal.” She dropped a giant green canvas bag next to the door and began rolling up her sleeves while eying her. “I need you in some fun clothes.”

“Fun? Like…”

“Like clothes you can move in. Fall in. Wrap your legs around a head in?”

“Pajama pants?”

“Loose fitting jeans would be better. Offer a little protection on skin too.”

“Got it.” Beth hurried to the closet. “Thank you for helping me.”

“My ever-lovin pleasure, sha. I can’t wait to see you kick her ass.”

God, let’s hope she could. “Gonna go behind the bed area and change.”

“I thought about what to teach you,” she said, while she put the jeans on. “We’re gonna do her like a gator. You not going there to dance with her, you’re gonna take her down hard and fast, and then you gonna make that bitch give you everything you want and then some.”

“I just want her to pull her weight,” Beth said, coming back around to Juliette.

“You may change your mind when she’s running her mouth.”

Her tasting Bishop comment returned and hardened her jaw.

“Hell yeah, that’s the look I’m talkin about right there,” Juliette said, going to the desk and kneeling next to it. “Come over here, sha, I need to see how strong you are.”

Beth went over and knelt across from her, realizing she wanted to have an arm wrestle. She put her hand in Juliette’s.

“Give me a firm grip.” Beth did and she shook her head, eying her with raised brows. “This is her hair. She just told you she wants to taste your man. You gonna let her talk to you like that? Ohhhhh, that’s a lot better.” She grinned and nodded. “Our angel is stroooong. Now, it’s time to put her down. She’s gonna come at you fast and hard,” Juliette said, nearly slamming Beth”s hand on the desk, demonstrating. “You gotta be ready first. You gotta strike first. You gotta—

Beth slammed Juliette’s arm down, getting huge eyes and even bigger laugh. “

“My girl!” She stood and motioned her to the middle of the floor. “Time to teach you the moves. You gonna take all that power you almost broke my arm with and trap that putan in ten seconds.”

The next two hours was full physical contact with Juliette taking Beth to the floor and restraining her over and over. “I need you to feel what I’m doing so you understand what’s happening when you’re on the opposite end of this move. I know you’re hurting, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I’m going as easy as I can. It’s hard to put the brakes on these moves when you only use them on gators.”

Finally, Beth was in the position of executioner rather than executed.

“Look how fast you’re learning!” Juliette said after an hour more.

“You were right about understanding it,” she gasped, getting off of her.

“Honey, you are smooth in your moves, I might just be a little jealous.”

“Has to be from ballet training,” she gasped, hands on knees. “They were very strict about perfect executions. Guess it became part of my psyche.”

“Ballet, huh?” she said, hands on her hips, chin tucked with fun curiosity. “You gonna have to trade me some moves.”

“Oh…I’d love that. Savvie has training too. Years,” she said, gasping a laugh. “I quit when I hurt my ankle at sixteen.”

“How many years you did that for?”

“Since I was three,” she said, wiping her forehead on her arm. She froze at hearing her phone. Running to the dresser, she looked at it. “Crap, it’s Sahvrin. He’s back! Taking a shower first!” She turned wide eyes to Juliette. “What if the internet lagged and he’s been here?”

Juliette raced to the door grabbing her bag. “I’ll text you. We’ll get together tomorrow for more training!” she whispered, leaving out quietly while Beth fought not to panic. She hurried to the dresser, pulling out blue-jeaned cut-off shorts and changing out of the jeans. God, she was sweating! How would she explain that?

Ballet! She was practicing. Because she and Savvie were…planning something. A show? God, no. Just bonding.

Shit, he’d want to know how her day went. What she’d accomplished. Well if everything went as planned, she accomplished everything.

****

Sahvrin had to take five extra minutes in the bathroom to pull his head together. His Belle Eveque in a fucking Bat-tai with Katrina. He went back to pacing in the small space, shaking his head, his adrenalin screaming in his veins at the idea of her getting hurt, even just a little. By that bitch, no less.

Now he fucking owed Zep for telling him. Fucking his ex who destroyed his life wasn’t enough pay for his Canaanite ass. He had to stab him in the back and drag it down his spine. Said he didn’t owe him anything, but Sahvrin knew better. Everything cost with Zep whether you knew you were paying or not.

He braced his palms on the counter, shaking his head.

Did he fucking let her? That was the question.

He pulled Juliette’s number up and hit send.

“Heyyyy big brother, how you doin?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m here at the Basilique, getting some big G time in. Why, what’s up?”

Some big G time. “I hope you’re not standing in church while lying your ass off.”

“What? I am standing in it, and I am on my knees praying, thank you very much.”

“Praying you don’t get struck dead for hiding what you’re about to do with my wife?”

The phone went quiet aside from a low hiss before she launched into a tirade. “Well, what the actual fuck are you doing having that girl going anywhere near her to begin with? If I didn’t know better, you were asking for trouble, question is, why.”

“Not asking for trouble, just giving her something to do.”

“That? Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

He couldn’t tell her more, no fucking way. “She chose to serve as my right hand,” he said, hoping she connected dots.

“Good, I think she should.”

“Right. With a war at our doorstep.”

She went quiet then gave an “Ohhhhhh, I seeeee. You’re setting her up. Giving her the worst jobs so she doesn’t want it.”

“I’m keeping her safe.”

“Now I can appreciate your angle. But, bubba, you aint keeping this one down. And honestly, after what that putan told her, you need to let her go on and kick her ass.”

“You’re talking about an angel who doesn’t fight going against a swamp she-devil! What the fuck did she tell her?”

“That she would cooperate with your angel if she got a taste of the grown-up Bishop.”

“Mon fucking Dieu,” he whispered, fighting his rage.

“Your angel isn’t just doing this to hurt-a-bitch, she’s doing it for a lot more and I have to say, what she’s doin is gonna put the angel in her Belle Eveque title.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll let her tell you the details,” she said, suddenly aloof. “But I say Katrina is a good place for her to draw first blood.”

“I don’t want her drawing any fucking blood, that’s why she’s an angel,” he said, wanting to punch the fucking phone. “I want to protect her from all that!”

“Now, bubba,” she said, her voice lowering. “I don’t mean to sound like an ass, but what did you think was gonna happen being who you are?”

He closed his eyes, his breath escaping. “I was thinking…I’d do everything in my power to keep her pure.”

“Awww, honey, that’s sweet but it’s stupid given she’ll be married to you.”

Right. “And what did you teach her so far?”

“Everything she’ll need to kick her ass, this I assure you. I’m taking her to the Bat-tie grounds to show her. I’ll train her more starting in the morning.”

“What time? Where?”

“I was thinking by the swamp dragon docks.”

“The field?”

“Yeah, why? You comin sneak a peek, you perv? She’s worried to death how you’ll take it.”

“What you tell her?”

“Told her you practically begged for this Bat-tie for asking her to deal with that putan.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, kicking his own ass again. “I swear to God, if she gets hurt.”

“You can kick my ass if that happens and that ain’t happen. Let’s just hope this impresses The Twelve,” Juliette muttered.

“What is that supposed to mean? Is she doing it for that?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“Did she say that?”

“No, she’s doing it to impress you, but you leadin’ that racket so same thing.”

“I can’t believe she called a public Bat-tie.”

“She sure did.”

“What time did you say you’re training her in the morning?”

“I didn’t. But I was thinking around 7:00 AM.

“I want to watch.”

“She won’t like that.”

“Well, I need to make sure she’s ready. I’ll fucking call you later.”

“Sure. And you’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Sahvrin made his way upstairs, all the conflicts waging war in his body having nothing on the eruption in his balls for his Belle Eveque who had done things that the Bishop was sure needed punishing. All the other wars would fucking wait.

He heard music as he climbed the last flight of stairs, the violent clash of Beethoven and some kind of battle music having him very curious. What was his sweet angel up to now?

He opened the door slowly, hoping to catch her doing something she wouldn’t do in front of him. Would be the first thing that went right in his day.

Those fucking shorts she wore. Cut-off way too short and hot as hell. Was that a bra or a bathing suit top? Was hard to tell while she spun. Pirouetted if his ballerina vocabulary was correct.

She did three jump splits back-to-back, those gorgeous legs wide open and perfectly straight, sending his heart straight to his dick.

Mon fucking Dieu, he”d just fallen in love all over again.

Something rude in the universe alerted her to watching eyes and she lost her balance, hitting the floor hard.

“Shit,” he muttered, running to her.

She was on her feet before he reached her. “I’m fine,” she gasped, wiping her forehead with her arm, fighting to catch her breath as he took in her sweaty body.

“I need… to shower, I lost track of time,” she said, holding a finger out at him, seeing his hunger. Fuck, he had to discipline her for not completing tasks.

“Your Eveque wants you naked,” he said, not about to wait. “Right now. Your top first,” he added quickly.”

Breathless, she eyed him like he was the last hurdle of a very long day and didn’t have any more fight left. “Ma Petite,” he said, aching to comfort her even as his fist clenched with the intention of wrapping in that long ponytail and cruelly punishing her with pleasure.

She removed the bra and tossed it to the side and Sahvrin strolled around her, taking in her perfection with a low groan, his hand worshipping every inch of her beautiful ass. “What did Ma Belle Eveque accomplish today?”

She took several shaky breaths before whispering, “What you asked me to.” He paused behind her, his jaw hardening with his cock.

Had she just lied.

No. Not her. Somehow in her pretty head, what she’d just said was gospel or she’d not have said it to her Eveque.

Technically, he shouldn’t know what she’d been up to. Technically, he’d have no reason to doubt her.

“But…” she barely said as he moved his mouth next to her ear, taking the shell between his lips.

“But what?”

“But…it’s not…entirely done. But will be very soon.”

“Mmmmm,” he said, gripping her ass in his hand while wrapping her ponytail slowly around his fist. He tugged her hair, tilting her face up to his. “Does this mean I get to punish my Belle Eveque with pleasure?”

She eyed him through slitted eyes and pinched brows, already breathless. “Yes,” she whispered weakly before closing her eyes. “Punish me.”

He turned her face to his and all his intentions to go slow burned up in the heat she caused in him. Getting his cock buried as deep in her as he could, that was the only thing that mattered in all the world but now those fucking shorts were in his way.

Seeing his need, she jumped into savior mode, getting her angelic hands all in his way. He finally removed the barrier only to be confronted with the same problem every time he was ready to have her. No place to fuck her. No table, no sofa, no fucking bed that wasn”t six feet off the floor.

He raced to the bed and yanked the mattress onto the floor and pulled her onto it. “Open,” he gushed, pushing her legs until they were in that wide, cock-sucking jump split. “Mon Dieu, why didn’t you tell me you could do this?”

She held her legs open for him, moaning frantically before he even entered her. His brain erupted with all those sexual positions he’d seen in her book that required special furniture. All that could possibly be needed to create it got moved to the top of his weapons list. There was surely no conflict more critical than this pleasure war The Bishop was already addicted to.

He knelt before her, moving the head of his cock to her entrance, and pushing just the head in as he grabbed hold of her hips. He went slowly, more aware than ever that there was something special about fucking his angel. That look of purity she devoured him with marked him harder each time. He knew deep in his soul he was being seduced by something divine and didn’t care what it cost him, he had to consume every bit of it.

But now, how he took her apart felt more important than ever. Saint Sahvrin said go slow and careful while the bastard Bishop swore reckless and ruthless was what she needed.

He”d managed to take an entire minute to pull her all the way onto his cock. He had to take another one to breathe through the orgasm roiling in his balls. All while his beautiful Petite’s hips squirmed in his grip, fighting to fuck him or get him to fuck her. Her little flicks and jerks with desperate grunts hinted that the Bishop was right. But then her desperate plea of “fuck me Bishop” proved it.

Keeping himself buried deep, he jerked her hips, pounding the head of his dick against the bottom of her, watching her head thrash with her mouth open so fucking wide. But those shocked screams unlocked the back door to his dark lusts, and he knew there would be no slowing it down.

His mind began cycling different positions to fuck her in till he was seething with all of it. But her fucking shrieks of pleasure… He needed his mouth all over that.

Moving her legs near his shoulders allowed him to lean forward till his lusty growls met her cries. “Bishop! Bishop!”

“You fucking want my cock hard and fast?” he shuddered, back to hammering her. “You like my fucking cock pounding your sweet fucking pussy?”

Her nails raked skin from his neck, electrifying his balls. “Mother-fuck,” he gasped, clenching his eyes shut as his orgasm avalanched. She pulled his hair, forcing his mouth on hers as he came so fucking hard and long, his half roars clashing with her sharp cries of rapture. Fuck, he prayed they were rapture.

When he was wrung out, he collapsed onto the mattress next to her, his muscles and purpose, gone. All that was left was his mind spinning in her light.

Why? Why did he rage so hard against it? Why did she let him? He came at it with all his might, and she just...let him devour her fucking whole.

And yet…he was the one defeated every time. After she lay down and took his rage against heaven, she rose from that carnage and fucking wrecked him with her tender mercy.

His angel turned to him, wanting his embrace. He pulled her in as close as he could get her, surrendering to her power. Her unwavering love.

Mon Dieu. Would it always be this way?

“Mmmm, that was so good,” she barely whispered, her fingers stroking in his hair. “I…have to tell you something.”

He closed his eyes, almost not wanting to ruin the moment. “I already know. Zep told me.”

Her fingers went still in his hair then finally resumed their stroking. “And?”

“And what?” he said, still winded.

“And…are you mad?”

“Mad,” he muttered, pulling his angel closer into him. “What were you thinking, Beth?”

She snuggled her face in his chest. “I may not have been in that moment. Hard to think when you’re seeing murder.”

He stroked her head. “Mon Dieu, I’m sorry you had to deal with that. But I do not want you fighting.”

Her head popped up. “But I have to.”

“No you don’t. I can forbid it.”

She suddenly sat up. “Why would you?” she wondered, looking equally curious and pissed.

“Because I don’t want my wife fighting,” he said, like that should be obvious.

“But…this is tradition, you Bat-tie when you can’t settle disputes.”

“I’ll settle it.”

“No!” she said, getting fully pissed. “I need to do this.”

“Do you? Why?” he challenged, sitting up too.

“Because…I need to!”

“And you already said that.”

“Because I deserve the right to defend what’s mine. Like you did for her when you were sixteen, you idiot.”

Her jealous reasoning brought his grin.

“It’s not funny.”

She slapped his hand away when he reached for her tit. “So you want to Bat-tie to prove to the Horde that you’re all mine and I’m all yours?”

She eyed him, pulling her knees up and hiding her breasts from him with a small nod. “And to accomplish what I set out to do.”

“Ah yes. What does Mah Belle Eveque get if she kicks this putan’s ass?”

She licked her lips and he loved how very serious she was about all of it. “Well, she’ll have to do the chores I lined out for her, of course. And…write a paper on the importance of family.”

His cock jerked at that last one. He studied her face then leaned in and brushed his lips along hers.

“And… to kick her ass for saying what she said,” she added in a whisper against his lips.

He put his hand behind her head, holding her to his deep kiss. Fuck what an angel she was. A paper on what it means to be family. He pulled away, looking at her. “You realize everybody will know about this Bat-tie and why you did it?” She nodded slowly, making him curious. “How exactly did Mah Petite come to even know about Bat-ties?”

“Your Mah-Mah told me about the one you had and the Bat-tie tradition. And how it went into the little newspapers for the Hatches.”

“So you knew it would go into those?”

She lifted her chin a little, maybe ready to defend her reason. “I thought it was a good way to introduce myself to…the rest of the family. Mah-Mah said the Bat-ties are everybody’s favorite. So…I thought I would make an example of lazy family members while reminding everybody that we can fight for causes and not just things.”

“Mon Dieu,” he breathed, back at her mouth and kissing her onto the mattress.

She had his cock in her and her hands pulling at his ass in three seconds. She held his face, kissing him, her strong legs wrapping his waist tight, hot gasps and moans filling him up till his groans came thick and fast.

“Bishop,” she demanded in his mouth. “I love you so much.”

He filled both fists with her hair and pulled her head back, sucking with a growl at her neck, to mark her hard. “You will fight, Mah Belle Eveque,” he said at her mouth when the mark was done. “You will fight with all your beautiful heart, and I will watch every second of it.”

****

“You hungry?” Spook asked, getting dishes out of the bag.

“Yes. What did you cook? It smells amazing. I still can’t believe you built all this. It’s like a whole house without walls. I may be surprised you have a bathroom. But very happy.”

The small laugh she gave was new and like everything beautiful about her, it marked him hard. And he was collecting those marks. He’d want every one of them once he got back to accepting it was all off limits. And it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it while it was there. He would. “Glad you like it,” he said, sure he’d somehow built the place for her without knowing it.

They sat and ate, and she gave colorful hmmm’s with every bite. He smiled that she’d reverted to that language while eating. “Thank you,” he said lightly, taking it as a compliment. She answered with more hmmm’s making him chuckle.

She ate every bit of it, and he took all the dishes to the make-shift sink he’d created next to the hut near the water collection. He looked in the wooden ash container an dug out a handful of ashes, throwing it in the water and setting the dishes in it.

“I can help,” she called. “Just tell me what to do.”

“I’ll fix you up with chores tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll take care of it tonight. In the winter, I cook more since it’s cold and the food doesn’t spoil.” He realized then. ”I think you’ll love Christmas in the swamp.”

“Christmas in the swamp?”

Her excited curiosity woke his own he’d had as a kid. “It’s one of our biggest celebrations. They put up a lot of lights. As a boy, I always found it enchantingly creepy.”

“Awwww, a boy?” Like she couldn’t imagine such a thing with how he now looked maybe. “And now?” she asked with laughter in her words.

“Now I find it beautiful and peaceful.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, smiling.

In the twilight, the flickering firelight made her too easy to stare at. “What made you cut your hair that way?” he wondered.

Her hand immediately went to the short side. “I…don’t really want to say,” she said quietly, making him more curious.

“I’ve grown a beard since I was able to. At first it was to hide a scar that I didn’t like and then as I grew older, I realized people avoided me, probably because I looked wild and dangerous. I liked that. Made me feel invisible while in plain sight.”

He watched in his peripheral vision as she came over, stopping next to the makeshift sink. “What scar?” she wondered.

“On my chin. I fell out of a tree when I was a kid and busted it wide open. Never healed right.”

“Can I…touch it?” she wondered.

Touch it. “Why do you always want to touch so much?”

“It’s how I can draw things.”

He eyed her, surprised. “You draw?”

She nodded. “And paint. But drawing is more…personal to me. Because when I touch, it sort of becomes a part of my brain and allows me to draw it perfectly.”

Now he wanted to see that in action but that would mean letting her touch. He was sure it’d be worth the suffering to have a drawing from her to keep. “I’ll let you touch it if you tell me why you cut your hair.”

She lowered her head and shook it. “It’s… stupid.”

“I really doubt that. I won’t think it is.”

She cast a quick look toward him. “There was a man where I lived. I liked him. And when he left, I was angry and cut half my hair because he took half of me. I felt like a freak and wanted to look like one too. I was young.”

“How young?”

“Fourteen,” she said, laughing like she was embarrassed.

“That’s a hard age for that kind of thing. You were just becoming a woman.”

She eyed him briefly. “They said the opposite. But I knew what I felt.”

The idea that she still loved this person had a jealous fire burning in him. “And you still cut it to this day?”

She shrugged her shoulder, picking at the splinters on the wooden sink. “I grew to like it,” she said. “I got over him and realized he wasn’t the person I thought he was or imagined. But everybody hated that I cut my hair and when it would grow, I would cut it again. I think to punish them for... something I never really understood. I wanted to hurt them, and they were only ever nice to me.”

“You just needed to bleed where it was safe.”

She looked at him fully with open wonder. “That sounds…right.”

“I do that with my parents because I know I can be my worst and I’ll still be their son.”

She gave a small smile. “You’re an only child?” she wondered.

“No, I have two older brothers.”

“No sisters?”

“Not a one,” he said, moving the dishes to the clean water. “I was always fascinated with girls and yet terrified.”

She gave a small giggle. “I can’t imagine you scared of anything. Where are your brothers?”

“Married with children in the swamps. They’re both almost a decade older than me. I was a surprise after my parents were done having two kids.”

“So you’re kind of an only child.”

“I was a spoiled little brother,” he said, grinning.

“I bet you were the sweetest thing.”

“I bet I wasn’t,” he assured, laughing.

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she assured back, making him want to ask her questions about similar things. “Can I feel now?”

His muscles locked up at the feel word. “When I’m done here, I’ll let you.”

She smiled and left to wander around the camp while humming.

“Remember the perimeter,” he called, needing to check the area for animal tracks. “There’s black bears, bobcats, cougars, and alligators,” he said, needing her afraid. “You’d make a nice meal.” More likely they’d avoid her, but he always planned for the worst-case scenarios.

“And a hundred diff species of fish, and white-tailed deer, and coyote, and beaver, and mink...” She flashed him the sweetest fucking smile. “I read all about it before coming.”

And she remembered. She was turning out to be more gifted than he first thought.

After getting everything ready for a quiet evening, he put water on for coffee.

“Now, can I?” she asked from behind him.

“Where do you want to conduct this torture?”

“You can sit in your chair,” she said excited.

He made his way to it, ready to get it over with, knowing he’d relive the whole experience repeatedly in his own private hell. “I’ve never let anybody do this,” he said, wanting her to be thankful for whatever he managed to give.

With the chair being close to the ground, it required her to kneel. “Don’t tell me where it is,” she whispered, excited. Her face level with his, she closed her eyes and for some reason he felt more exposed. She started at his beard, her fingers barely touching along it, feeling its shape. Gradually she pressed more, going deeper, as if digging around in his past. She moved in front of him and barely touched his knees, asking to get closer without words. He opened his legs and she moved between them. Fuck, his brain responded like she was going down on him, making his cock harder. He had to close his eyes when she put a hand on each side of his face.

Her soft fingers pushed through his beard and down to his skin before slowly working her touch along his jaw. It felt too amazing. He kept imagining what her lips would feel like on his while she did that.

The closer she got to the scar, the harder his cock got. Her finger grazed it and she sucked in a breath. “I found it,” she whispered, her other hand on the scene, feeling slowly along the two-inch gash. “It must’ve really hurt,” she said, stroking it before her fingers continued their exploration. “How old were you?”

He swallowed, his cock pounding out of control. “Eight,” he murmured, opening his eyes to see her.

She remained with eyes closed, her brows pulled in concentration, allowing him to take his own notes as heat boiled in his blood. Fuck she was beautiful.

Her fingers approached his mouth and she paused with a soft, “Please” as if sensing his need to stop her. “I need to feel it.”

His pulse raged as she moved her fingers over every inch of his lips. He needed air and had to open his mouth a little which to her meant more access that she took without mercy.

“Such beautiful lips,” she said, sounding surprised as she wet her own, making them shine in the rising moonlight.

“Maggie,” he muttered, losing his control.

She moved her fingers to his cheeks. “I need to feel all of it,” she barely cried, smiling with her eyes closed. “Please let me. I’ll do all the dishes for the next ten years.”

Fuck. The idea of having her for ten years in any capacity gutted him with need. “I can’t,” he whispered, his eyes closed.

“Shhh, be still,” she fussed, hurrying her hands to his forehead and brows. “I’m just memorizing.”

Just memorizing. Felt like she collected every piece of him and stroked her soft, hungry fingers over each one. It burned him until he couldn’t breathe. And fighting not to act on it had his muscles rigid in a silent war.

“I’m nearly done,” she promised with a soft whisper, her fingers on his eye lids then quickly moving up into his hair as though knowing her time was getting shorter.

“I can’t do this,” he barely whispered as her fingers roamed across his scalp while praying she never stopped.

She gave a small laugh, finding it funny. “You won’t die,” she assured as he had done to her, both hands tracing his ears now, even dipping the tips inside.

He’d never experienced anything so fucking erotic and he suddenly wanted her to memorize every inch of his body with every inch of hers.

“All done,” she gasped, standing, and backing away as he remained locked in that war. “I need my pencils,” she said, her voice behind him. He listened as she dug through her things, his breath slowly releasing, while his pulse hammered ruthlessly in his cock.

He got up and poured the boiling water into the top of the drip pot, needing something to do besides fight not to have an orgasm. Orgasms weren’t off limits to him, he just preferred staying away from feeding the wrong things but now…he really needed to have one to take the rock-hard edge off.