Chapter 8

“Enough,” Evil Dad warned. He turned his attention from Randy to Lyle, and stared Lyle down. Though Lyle did drop his gaze, he did not unclench his hands, and something in the back of Randy’s head suggested that Randy keep an eye on the ground in order to be forewarned of the fire Lyle was about to ignite with his glare.

Dropping one hand on Lyle’s shoulder, its fingertips tight and white, the man turned and held Randy’s gaze. “Lyle’s right. We’re doing you a favor here, whether you know it or not. This tree has needed to come down since before you even moved in. And it’s not the only one, either. The first ice storm or heavy wind we get is going to have this wood making itself a houseguest of yours through your sliding door or one of your windows, if it doesn’t just rip through the roof and start getting cozy in your attic.”

“Oh—”

“It didn’t seem like you were in any hurry to get someone up here to do it. God knows you couldn’t manage it yourself.”