Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I kissed him on the forehead before releasing him and settling back in my seat. I glanced over at the field just in time to catch Thomas breaking away from his huddle. He had his helmet tucked under his arm, his blond hair wet with sweat and a big grin on his face. It was moments like this that he looked identical to his father. So much so, it brought a tightness to my chest.
“Here he comes.” I reached over and brushed the hair from Lucas’s eyes. “How about we hit the drive-through on the way home tonight, and I’ll cook tomorrow.”
“Can we do chicken strips?”
“We can do whatever you want. Your choice.”
“Thomas isn’t gonna like that.”
“Well, he can choose another night.” When Thomas got closer, I rolled my window down and told him, “Throw your stuff in the back.”
He gave me a nod, then made his way to the back of the Tahoe. Once I’d popped the trunk, he tossed in his helmet and pads, along with his bag and shoes. He slammed the door shut, then walked around to the passenger side of the car like he owned it.
He opened the door and stood there, hovering over Lucas with that look big brothers give when they want something. When Lucas didn’t budge, Thomas ordered, “Get in the back.”
“I was here first.”
“I don’t care. It’s my turn. Now, move it.”
“Suck it.”
Before I could intervene, Thomas reached inside and grabbed a fistful of his brother’s shirt, pulling him out like a sack of potatoes. Lucas immediately started fighting back, and that’s when I yelled, “Woah! Knock it off right this second!”
I was louder than I intended, but it did the trick. Both boys froze, and Thomas released his hold on Lucas. Thomas looked like I’d betrayed him in some way when I said, “Get in the back.”
“That’s not fair,” Thomas complained. “It’s my turn to be up front.”
“We’ve been waiting for you for over forty-five minutes. The least you can do is sit in the back.”
Thomas groaned, rolling his eyes so hard I thought they might stick as he grumbled, “You always take his side.”
I didn’t respond.
I just sat and waited as he slammed his brother’s door, stomped to the back, yanked it open, and flopped into the seat with a huff. As soon as he clicked on his seatbelt, I threw it into drive and started out of the parking lot. I gave it a few minutes, then told him, “We’re picking up some fried chicken on the way home.”
“I thought you were making sloppy joes.”
“I was, but now, we’re getting some chicken.”
His scowl softened as he asked, “From Canes?”
“If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, Canes would be awesome right about now.”
“Good deal. Be thinking about what you might want.”
I glanced over at Lucas, and his smile was almost as big as his brother’s. And for a moment, just a moment, it felt like we might actually survive the night. I considered that a win.
3
DRIFTER
Fight night in Hicksville was not a place I ever thought I’d be, but there I was, standing in the shadows of some old warehouse. The place was standing on its last leg, and all it would take was one good gust of wind to take the whole thing down. The people streaming inside were laughing and carrying on like they were headed to the damn carnival. Hell, there were a couple of them who were shoving each other around with the kind of reckless excitement only money could buy.
Young kids wearing their ballcaps backward and chains around their necks. Old fucks in boots and bolo ties. Women dressed like they were hitting the club, and even a couple in suits wandered in. Money didn’t matter. They were all here for the same reason.
Blood, fists, and whatever chaos passed for entertainment.
I didn’t see Hank anywhere.
Of course I didn’t. I muttered a string of curses under my breath. I had no idea what the hell I was doing there. This wasn’t me. I didn’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I was looking for a fight or a distraction. Or maybe I needed some damn proof that I still had something left in me.
Ridiculous.
All of it.
The rumble of voices drifted through the cracked doors, and they sounded fucking pumped. They were ready for a show, and they could have it. But it wouldn’t include me. I wasn’t the entertaining type. Never had been. Never would be.
Don’t get me wrong.
Back in the day, I would’ve walked straight in, dropped the first loudmouth who looked at me wrong, and let the night take care of itself. Now, I was tired, bone tired, and I didn’t have the patience for this kind of shit. I shook my head and turned back toward my bike.
I was ready to put this whole trip behind me, and then I heard it.