Chapter 1
DRIFTER
Ihad no clue where I was.
Just that I was somewhere in North Dakota, but I had no idea what city I was in. Not that it mattered. I had a beer in my hand and a roof over my head, and that was all I really needed.
I’d stumbled across Trout Liners a few days prior.
It was a dive bar with a fishing theme of sorts.
The place smelled like old wood and cheap whiskey and was decorated with old fishing poles and nets.
Folks came and went, but they minded their own.
And the bartender, Hank, seemed to be a decent enough guy.
I was sitting at the end of the counter where the light burned low, and nobody asked questions they didn’t want answered. My back was to the wall, and my eyes were tracking the room. It was the kind of old habit you get from being a club’s enforcer. You always gotta know what’s coming.
The beer was ice cold, just the way I liked it, and it ran smooth as I tilted my head back and took a long pull. I was enjoying the quiet when Hank dropped his rag on the counter and stepped in front of me.
He was in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair and a crooked smile. He was friendly without pushing too hard. He cleared his throat, drawing my attention before saying, “So, you’re still here.”
“Looks that way.”
“Planning on staying long?”
“Can’t say that I am.”
Hank huffed a soft laugh and shook his head like it wasn’t the first time he’d heard my kind of BS.
I rolled the neck of the bottle between my fingers, watching the way the light caught on the glass as I considered my answer.
It wasn’t the first time someone asked about my plans.
Usually, they expected me to name a place, a destination, or a plan, but I didn’t have one.
He studied me for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if I was running from something or just had nowhere better to be. Honestly, it was a little of both, and that wasn’t something you could just lay out on a bar top between beers.
“So, you’re just out there enjoying the open road.”
“Pretty much.”
“I couldn’t do it.” He shrugged. “Guess you could say I’m a homebody.”
The statement hung in the air between us, and just like that, good ol’ Hank had pushed too far. My fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle, and for a split second, that old familiar feeling settled in my chest. I didn’t want to think about it, but it was too late.
I thought about it anyway.
What home used to mean. It was a place that only existed now in my memories. I finished off the last of my beer and set the empty bottle down with a quiet thud. I was about to stand when Hank leaned in and said, “If you’re interested, we got fight night tomorrow night.”
“Not interested.”
“There’s good money in it.” He gave me a quick once-over. “You look like you stay in shape. Something tells me you can still hold your own.”
“Already told ya. I’m not interested.”
“Alright, but if you change your mind.” He slid a business card across the table. “You can reach me here.”
I stared down at it for a moment, and for reasons I still don’t understand, I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. While I was at it, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and placed it on the counter before heading for the door. “Have a good one, Hank.”
“Woah,” Hank gasped. “What about your change?”
“Keep it.”
I continued for the door, and the cold, night air hit me as I stepped outside.
It was cooler than it had been in days, but it wouldn’t last. Spring was close.
I could feel it in my bones. I got to my bike, and as I reached into my saddlebag for my gloves, my fingers brushed against worn leather and something softer tucked inside. I didn’t pull it out.
Not here.
Not now.
A sharp voice cut through the quiet, and I turned just in time to see a young couple standing next to a beat-up sedan. The tension between them was thick enough to feel across the lot, and it only grew more tense when the young brunette shouted, “I’m not going!”
The guy had that puffed-up look about him. Chest out. Jaw tight. Brows furrowed. He was trying hard to prove something, but the girl was standing her ground. “Don’t start this shit again, Kelse.”
“This isn’t about me. This is you.” She crossed her arms with a huff. “It’s always you.”
“Of course, it is. Fuck. I never do nothing right with you.” He shook his head with aggravation. “Out here making a damn scene over nothing.”
“Nothing?” she shot back. “You’ve been gone for two days, and you come back here acting like everything is peachy. Well, it’s not. I’m done with your bullshit.”
I hesitated, just long enough to make sure the asshole wasn’t going to do something stupid, and just as I expected, he did something stupid. He stepped toward her, and when he reached for her arm, she flinched.
Nothing big or dramatic, but it was enough.
He’d hurt her before, and my gut told me he’d have no problem doing it again.
My back straightened the second his hand connected with her arm, and when he jerked her forward, I dropped my gloves and started toward them. “You know I was working.”
“You were shacked up with some stupid whore, Brandon. That’s where you always are, and that’s not work, especially the way you do it.”
That brought fire to his eyes, and it came as no surprise when he released her and immediately backhanded her. The girl dropped her face into her hands and started to sob. “I don’t know why I fucking bother. You worthless little bit…”
Before he could finish that statement, my fist connected with his jaw, sending him flailing back, but only momentarily.
The guy was young and built like a damn linebacker, and he had a temper to match.
Rage flickered through his eyes as he charged at me and snarled, “You should’ve minded your own, ol’ man. ”
Now, call me sensitive, but that was a low blow.
Most people noticed me before I ever said a word. It was hard not to. I stood at about six-five, and I was built solid. Been that way since I was a kid. I worked out when I felt the need but ran on the daily. It helped keep my mind clear, and my gut from getting away from me.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew my age was starting to catch up with me. I saw it every time I saw my reflection. Gray was working its way through my hair, and my beard wasn’t as dark as it used to be.
Few years back, I wouldn’t have thought twice about putting this asshole in the ground, and after seeing the way he’d manhandled his girl, I would’ve slept fine after. But I’m not that guy anymore.
Now, I just needed him to feel. Just enough for him to get what he’d been doing to her. Enough that maybe next time, he’d think twice before raising his hand. My gut told me that wouldn’t be the case. I could see it in his eyes as he charged towards me.
He came in fast. Shoulder down, all muscle and anger, and he tried to bulldoze straight through me like his size was enough to take me out. A few years back, I might’ve met him head-on, just to prove a point, but these days I know better.
I pivoted, letting his weight carry him past me, and it threw him off balance.
I used the opportunity to drive my elbow into his ribs as he stumbled by.
He grunted, but it was more out of surprise than hurt.
He spun back with a wild swing that caught me harder than I would’ve liked and rattled my teeth.
My head snapped to the side, and the crack of the blow rung in my ears.
Yeah, I felt that one.
It reminded me I wasn’t quite as untouchable I used to be.
I rolled my jaw once, tasting a hint of blood, and gave him a look. “That the best you got?”
That only pissed him off even more.
Good. I wanted him pissed off.
He lunged again, this time getting a hand on my shirt and driving forward. We went down hard, gravel bit through denim as his weight crashed onto me, and the impact knocked the air from my lungs. He took advantage and threw a punch.
It landed. Rock solid.
Right into my ribs.
The pain flared hot and deep. A younger man might’ve been able to ignore it, but I felt every damn ounce of it.
It fueled me and had me shifting my weight.
I hooked my leg behind his and twisted hard, rolling us just enough to break his hold.
I drove my fist into his side, low and precise, slamming right into his kidney.
He sucked in a strangled breath. It hurt now and would hurt even worse later. I shoved off him and onto my feet as I told him, “That one, you’re gonna remember.”
Holding his hand against his side, he hesitated, but the stubborn bastard didn’t stay down. He had grit. I’d give him that. It was stupid grit, but he had it all the same. He got to his feet and heaved, “You think you’re tough, ol’ man?”
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t have to.
I wasn’t the one holding my side and gasping for breath like I’d just run a fucking race. He came at me again, slower this time, and his movements were haphazard, like he was running out of steam. I stepped in before he could get any real momentum and drove my fist square into his gut, folding him.
When his head dipped, I brought my other hand up and met his jaw with everything I had to give. The impact snapped his head sideways, and his entire body went limp. He hit the gravel hard, and this time, he didn’t bounce back.
For a second, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. It was steady, but deeper than it used to be after a fight like that. My ribs throbbed a bit, and my cheek had a bit of a sting to it. But nothing was broken, and there weren’t any wounds I couldn’t walk off.
I stood over him long enough to make sure he wasn’t going to get back up, and thankfully, he didn’t. He just lay there all sprawled out and groaning like he was on his last leg. I dragged my hand over my mouth, wiping away the trace of blood, then turned my attention to the girl.
“You alright?”
“Yes.” Her eyes flickered with something that looked like relief before she added, “Thanks to you.”
“Can I offer you a ride or something?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“She said she was fine,” the guy grumbled from the ground.
“No one asked you!”
The girl stepped forward and kicked him in the gut.
Good girl.
She turned back to me and sighed, “My car is over there.”
“You should probably get to it.”
“Yeah, I should.” She took a step forward, then stopped. “Thank you for your help with him.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“He’s really not all that bad… Just losing his way every now and then gets out of hand.”
“You could say the same about poison ivy.” I cocked my brow. “It’s all good and well until you bump up against it. The rash hits hard and spreads fast. Best to just steer clear of it.”
“I try but… you know how it is. The rash eventually fades, and that’s when I tend to forget and get too close again.”
“The time will come when it won’t fade, and he’ll take you out. Sure would hate to see that happen.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Then, steer clear.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, sounding like she meant it. “I will.”
With that, she continued over to her car.
Once she’d gotten inside, I knelt down next to her ex and grabbed a chunk of his hair, forcing his head back.
The second his eyes met mine, I leaned in and growled, “Keep your fucking hands off the girl, or next time, I cut the motherfuckers right off. And you’ll spend the rest of your sorry life thinking back on a time when you could still wipe your own ass. ”
I released his hair, and his head dropped to the gravel with a hard thud.
When I got back to my bike, I grabbed my gloves and, just as I started pulling them on, I spotted Hank standing at the bar's front door. “Damn, man. I was right. I knew you still had some fight in you.”
I shook my head and continued putting on my gloves. My hands were still buzzing with adrenaline, and the last thing I needed was to deal with Hank and his bullshit. “Not happening, Hank.”
I swung my leg over the seat and slipped on my helmet.
He stood there watching as I started the bike and let the engine drown out everything, including the part of me that was wondering if staying one more night would bite me in the ass.
The rumble vibrated through my bones as I eased out of the lot and onto the main road.
I peered out at the road ahead and let out a breath. I don’t know what it was about this fight night, but I had this gnawing feeling that I should go check it out. And hell, who knows? I might end up with a few extra bucks in my pocket.