Chapter 20 EMMETT #2
“There was a rancher outside of town. He knew one of our brothers. They’d gone to school together.
Somehow the topic of a fight came up and the rancher mentioned he had a large shop.
He’d move out his equipment, let us come to his property and he’d look the other way while we hosted a fight. For a fee.”
I ran into that rancher every now and again around town. Sometimes at the hardware store. Others at the gas station. He’d been older than me and had known Dad better, but each time he saw me, he’d nod and wave.
I was recognized a lot around town. We all were.
Small towns were like that. And people remembered who we were.
The men we’d been. Dash, Leo and I had done our best to become upstanding citizens.
Dash ran a successful business. I had my properties and investments.
Leo made friends with just about everyone. But people remembered.
Those new to town would eventually hear rumors. There were women who’d always pull their kids behind them when they passed me on the sidewalk. Men who’d give me a sideways glance when I rode past on my bike.
We could pretend we’d been better men than the Warriors, but in the end, our clubs hadn’t been all that different.
And here we were, still at war.
“We set up the fight,” I told her. “Planned it for months. It wasn’t like we sent out invitations, but it was an open event. If you knew the right people, you were in.”
“How did TJ end up there? Why would you let a Warrior in?”
“Because he lied.” I shot her a glance. “He came with three other guys. None of them wore their cuts so we didn’t know they were Warriors.”
There was no way I ever would have been without my patch, no matter the event. We wore them whenever we rode. It was a point of honor. Of pride. Apparently, getting into a fight and winning some money had been more important than club loyalty.
Maybe we should have asked more questions because TJ and his friends had come on bikes. But a lot of men, affiliated with a club or not, had rolled in on a Harley, a Victory or an Indian.
I’d been inside, getting the fights lined up, so I hadn’t seen TJ or his fellow Warriors come inside.
None of the Kings had recognized them either.
We’d all known the Warrior leadership, but prospects?
It was hard to keep track. TJ and his friends had shown up at the door, said the right names and been let inside.
“Each of them wanted to fight but we had a full schedule. Based on weight and size, we could only fit one of them in.”
“My brother,” she whispered.
We’d turned him down at first. He’d been young and cocky. He hadn’t had the bulk of the grown men, but our smallest weight group hadn’t had a lot of guys, so we’d agreed. Another fight meant more money. If I’d only known . . .
“I wish I had turned him away.” And not just because she was here beside me. But because he’d just been a kid. An arrogant, reckless kid who’d gotten his ass handed to him in the second round.
“He fought in one of the first matches. He lost.” I’d only caught a few glimpses of it, mostly toward the end. I’d been busy helping organize and also prep for my own fights. I hadn’t given that kid a second thought after he’d cleared out of the ring.
Nova sat so still it was like she’d turned to stone, but she was listening. She blinked. Her chest rose and fell as I spoke. Her pain was tangible.
“Those fights went nearly all night. It was pitch black by the time we all started to clear out. Well past midnight and closer to sunrise than sunset. Most of the Kings stayed until the end. We’d planned to meet up at the clubhouse, have a party to celebrate.
Three of us stayed back to lock up the rancher’s shop. Me, my dad and my buddy Leo.”
Back then, Leo was usually the first to race off for the afterparty, but he’d decided to hang with me and Dad that night. Make sure everything was secure. We’d cleaned up the shop. Shoved a fat envelope of cash in the top drawer of the rancher’s toolbox, per our arrangement. Then headed out.
“We walked out of the shop, thinking everyone was long gone, and there were these kids. They started shouting at us that we’d cheated them. That we’d rigged the fights and stolen their money.”
“Did you?”
I clenched my jaw. “No. There was no reason to cheat. You placed your bets right and you’d leave flush.”
She must have believed me because her shoulders fell a fraction of an inch.
“It was dark but not enough to hide their cuts. They’d put them on, probably while waiting for us to be alone.”
Leo probably would have died that night if not for them putting on their cuts. One glance and we’d gone on alert. We’d drawn weapons. If they’d shown up in hoodies, we wouldn’t have thought to go for our guns.
“They fired first.” At Leo. Then at Dad. Thank God it had been so dark that they’d missed. I’d been locking up the shop and had been a few steps behind. But because of where I’d stood, I’d had the best position. “Then . . .”
It had happened fast. Death rarely took its time when it came calling. There’d been bullets flying. Men shouting. Dad had fired the single shot he’d had left. Leo had shot twice and clipped a guy in the arm.
Maybe we could have talked it out. Maybe had we not drawn our guns, they would have listened. Maybe we could have paid them off.
It was easier to rewind now, to see where everything had gone wrong and think about maybes. But in the moment, I’d simply wanted to protect my dad and my friend from the men who’d been trying to kill them.
“Your brother took a hit to the leg.” It must have hit the femoral artery because he bled out.
“From your dad.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, not sure how to keep going. Dad had wanted to take this. To bear this burden. But it had never been his to own. It had always been mine and the time had come to pay the price.
“No. Not from my dad.”
“W-what?” Nova’s face whipped to my profile.
I turned, taking her in. If she’d wanted the truth, she found it on my face.
“It wasn’t your dad.” Her chin quivered and the pools in her eyes caught the starlight. “It was you. You killed my brother.”
The heartbreak on her face was almost too much to witness. But she needed to know.
If she was coming after us for her brother’s vengeance, then she should know the truth. She should know who deserved to be punished.
“It was me.”