Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Realizing it’s going to take more than a single punch to drop me, he puts more weight into the next one. I catch him by the wrist before it connects, and stop his momentum immediately.
“Sure you want to do this?” I ask. As much as I want to hurt him for tormenting Carrie, I don’t want the other patrons of the restaurant to walk away traumatized.
“Fuck you.” He yanks his arm out of my grip and adopts a poor impression of a boxer’s stance.
Well, I warned him.
Baldy comes at me again with the intention of delivering a flurry of blows I won’t be able to stop. Expecting me to back away from the wild jabs, I do the opposite and step in closer. With less distance to prep his punches, they don’t have much weight on impact.
Catching him off guard with my movement, I drive my head forward and connect with the bridge of his nose. The blow rattles him, and he stumbles back a few steps. Blood appears.
See, I don’t often use my hands in a fight. They’re weaker than you might think. Sure, I could’ve cracked his skull with a harrowing right hook, but I’d probably break my hand in the process. Using your forehead is the way to go when you want to inflict heavy damage while sustaining very little. It’s a solid, heavy block. No brittle bones that can rupture or break from impact.
Speaking of brittle . . .
“How did that feel?” I ask, hearing my voice shift from the calm serenity of a few seconds ago, to grim and blood hungry. “Got someone your own size to pick on now, son. Better remember that when you try fucking with Carrie again.” I take a few calculated steps toward him. “You tell your boss she’s mine now. And if he doesn’t stop chasing her, he’s gonna get fucked up.”
“You broke my … ”
I’m not sure Baldy’s even listening anymore with how focused he is on repeating how I broke his nose. I’m starting to suspect their boss, Mr. Aimos, didn’t do much in the way of vetting when he hired these boys. They aren’t very good security.
“Let’s get out of here, Baby,” I hold my hand out to her, and she rushes to my side.
Hopefully, this will be enough to scare them off.
Because next time, I won’t hold back.
10
CARRIE
On our ride back to the bar, Judge explains that Frasier gave him the news this morning. Tells me that he didn’t want to scare me with the news, so he kept it a secret. Admits that Allistair is the reason he was on guard all morning.
I understand it. Hell, I thank him for it. He gave me a great start to my day in the best way he could under the circumstances. And the best part is, I got to watch him kick that bald prick’s ass.
We pull into the bar’s parking lot, and both of us instantly know that Allistair’s here. Apart from the sheriff’s car, there are only three SUVs parked outside. The sheriff is at Judge’s door before he can open it.
“I fucking knew this was you,” the sheriff yells once we’re out. “How dare you bring these troublemakers to my town? And now I’m hearing there was a fight at Glen’s Bistro? Why do I get the feeling you were in the middle of that as well?”
“Because I was,” Judge says. Not intimidated by the lawman, he starts walking toward the Stoneworks’ entrance. “I don’t have time for this, Larry.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sheriff Larry looks dumbfounded at the way Judge is handling this, and I can’t stop the smile creeping over my face.
Larry runs in front of us, walking back and holding his hands up to Judge, trying to slow him down.
“Inside?” Judge answers. “Look, they’re not with me. But they’re causing trouble, and I plan on getting rid of them.”
“If they’re not with you, what are they doing at your —” He realizes the answer before he has to ask the question. He turns his eyes to me. “They’re with you?”
“No,” I say. “They’re following me and I’m trying to get away.” Unlike Judge, my voice is timid toward the officer. I’m not intimidated by Larry specifically, but I’ve always found it hard to show any sort of strength when it comes to police officers.
“So, why don’t you do us all a favor?” Judge starts, side-stepping Larry. “And get out of here? I’ll fill out another one of your bullshit reports when I’m finished inside.”
“You know I can’t let you go in there alone if I think you’re gonna hurt those boys,” Larry protests, but there’s less conviction in his words. Almost as if he wants Judge to take out the trash, but he’s covering his ass as a sheriff.