Dawson's Stand (Welcome to Covendale Book 4)

by Morgan Blaze

  It was hard to believe, but she had to hold onto that idea. It was the only way she could keep her sanity intact.

  With a faint smile, she drained the last of the Sidecar. She felt like she’d been living on autopilot for the past year, and someone had just handed her a brand new set of controls. She’d set goals and accomplished them. Have two drinks. Talk to strangers. As long as she took things one step at a time, she might actually be able to make this work.

  Matt collected her glass when she set it down. “Need a refill?”

  “No, thank you. That’s my limit.” She suddenly thought of Gage and their interrupted toast. She did wonder what he would’ve wanted to drink to. Absently, she glanced over in the direction he’d gone with Jenny.

  And spotted him standing beside a pool table, staring straight at her.

  Her breath caught. She turned away fast, but not soon enough to stop the flush that warmed her face. She’d never seen a look that intense—one she could feel from across the room. It should’ve scared the hell out of her.

  Maybe it did. But she thought maybe it was just a little thrilling, too. If he didn’t have a girlfriend, she might even be interested in getting to know him better. But he did. In fact, she was probably reading something into the look that just wasn’t there. He’d already said he was just trying to be friendly.

  “Hey, uh, Kyla?”

  Matt’s voice startled her. She’d forgotten the bartender was still there. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Did you say something I missed?”

  “No, but…” He sighed. “Do you mind a little friendly advice?”

  “I guess not.”

  “You’ll hear about it sooner or later, so you might as well know sooner.” He nodded toward the pool tables. “Thing is, you really don’t want to get involved with Gage Dawson.”

  At first she was shocked, and started wondering if she’d actually spoken her thoughts out loud. Maybe she was drunker than she thought. Then she realized Matt had seen and probably heard them talking earlier—and now she was just confused. Gage seemed like a nice enough guy. “Why not?” she said. Not that she was planning to. It just struck her as wrong to talk about people behind their backs like this.

  “Because he’s a Dawson.” The bartender glanced toward him again, as if he thought Gage might overhear. “All the Dawson boys are bad news.”

  “Dawson boys?”

  “They’re brothers. Three of them—Gage is the youngest. He’s bad enough, and the other two are worse.”

  Kyla shook her head. She didn’t want to believe it, especially since it sounded like the worst kind of rumor. He’d seemed fine to her. But she couldn’t exactly consider herself an excellent judge of character after the way her marriage turned out.

  Then again, everyone else thought Michael Patrick Finley was a great, stand-up guy.

  “I, uh…” Her gaze shifted unconsciously toward the pool tables, where it looked like Gage and Jenny were arguing. He gestured angrily at the table, she crossed her arms and spat something. He snatched a leather jacket from a nearby chair and yanked it on, and she turned her back on him. “I don’t feel so good,” Kyla murmured. “That’s the bathroom, right?”

  “Yes, right over there.” The bartender looked concerned. “Are you all right? Should I call someone for you?”

  “No. I’ll be fine. I just…” Blinking rapidly, she slid off the stool and took a moment to steady herself. The dizziness had gotten worse, and now her stomach churned sourly. “I just need the bathroom.”

  Somehow she managed to make it to the alcove beyond the bar, past a back door with an exit sign above it and into the ladies’ room. She tottered into a stall and locked it, then sank to the floor next to the toilet and waited for the drinks to come back up.

  They didn’t. Gradually, the dizzy feeling started to abate and her gut settled into an approximation of normal. She decided to sit here a little bit longer, until she could cleanse her mind again. Just thinking about Mike for a few minutes had turned her into a quivering wreck, and changed what might’ve been a decent night into a disappointment.

  So much for freedom.

  * * * *

  Gage stared at Jenny in disbelief. “What did you say?”

  “Come on. You know what I mean.” She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “It’s real mild stuff,” she said in low tones. “We could get a nice buzz, and…just see where it takes us.”

  He jerked away, shaking his head. They hadn’t even finished the game, and she’d suddenly announced she wanted to go out to the parking lot and toke up. This date was definitely a mistake. Maybe Mark was right about him not thinking things through—but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that to his know-it-all brother. “I don’t touch that shit,” he said. “I get enough trouble from the law around here as it is. Does Dean know you’re using?”

  She snorted and crossed her arms. “I don’t have to answer that.”

  “Yeah, well you just did.”

  “Screw you, Gage.”

  “No thanks.”

  Her mouth dropped open for a second, and she turned her back on him.

  Christ, no wonder she was with Dean for so long. The two of them were perfect for each other—petty, stubborn, and shallow as mud puddles. He grabbed his jacket and stuffed it on, more disgusted with himself than anything for agreeing to this in the first place. “Come on,” he said. “I’m taking you home.”

  “Fine.” She faced him again, sliding something in her pocket as she turned. Looked like her phone. Maybe she’d been texting all her girlfriends to tell them what a piece of shit he was—not like that hadn’t happened before. “Let’s go.”

  “Ladies first.”

  She rolled her eyes and flounced off toward the back door.

  Gage followed slowly. He really didn’t feel like taking Jenny anywhere. But he’d driven her here, so he was responsible for making sure she got home safely. And that was where it ended.

  As they neared the bar, he noticed Kyla wasn’t there anymore—and only belatedly realized he’d been looking for her. He wished he’d been able to talk to her longer. Something about her had drawn him instantly, and it wasn’t the usual new-date-potential feeling. This was something he’d never felt before.

  Then he spotted her rounding the corner of the back hall toward the bathroom, weaving on her feet a little. He had to actively fight the urge to go after her and see if she needed help.

  Instead, he sighed and followed Jenny out the back door. He’d gotten himself into this, and now he had to get himself out. Maybe he could try to find Kyla later. He didn’t even know her last name, but there definitely weren’t any other girls named Kyla in Covendale. Someone had to know where she lived, or worked, or something.

  The first thing he noticed out in the lot was the big black pickup parked next to Jonah’s car. Every other person around here drove a truck, but he knew this one. The chrome rock rails, the bull bar on the front—it was Dean Wesley’s. And the son of a bitch definitely hadn’t been in the bar.

  Suddenly he wondered just who Jenny had texted before they came out here.

  Before he could find out, the deputy strolled out from behind the truck. With three of his friends in tow. Gage recognized two of them—Bobby and Vince, the thick-necked dim bulbs who ran the scrap yard. He didn’t know the last guy, who was an even bigger meathead than the rest.

  “Dawson.” Dean stopped in front of the car, grinning. “Let me guess. This is your brother’s car.”

  “Actually, it is. Deputy Dean.” It wasn’t easy to hold himself back. He had a pretty good idea what Dean was planning, and the fact that he’d brought three friends to do it really pissed him off. One on one, the deputy didn’t have a chance unless he was hiding behind his badge. “But hey, if you don’t want to take my word for it, feel free to check with Jonah.”

  Panic flickered in Dean’s eyes for an instant, and he actually looked around the lot, as if he expected the eldest Dawson to jump out and break something v
aluable. Like his neck. But the worry eased into smug satisfaction, and he took a few steps closer. “Don’t worry, Dawson,” he said. “I’m not on duty tonight, so I can’t bust you for being a lowlife scum. Even if you deserve it.”

  “Mind telling me what you want then, Dean?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, this is personal,” the deputy said. “How about you tell me what you’re doing here with my girlfriend?”

  “She dumped you.”

  “Did she? That’s funny…she never told me that.”

  A muffled giggle sounded to his right. Gage whipped around to glare at Jenny, who shrugged slightly and smirked. “I knew you wouldn’t say no if I asked you out,” she said. “You’ve always been so damned full of yourself. We just wanted to make sure you couldn’t hide behind your brothers.”

  His jaw twitched. “And you wanted to get me high, so I couldn’t react when they jumped me,” he said. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

  “Would’ve been a nice bonus,” Dean said. “But we’ll just work without it.”

  Gage shook his head. “You’re pathetic,” he said. “You know you can’t beat me alone. So what, you think winning four-to-one makes you better?” He sneered. “It makes you a bully, and a coward.”

  “Look who’s talking.” Dean glanced at Jenny and jerked his head, and she scuttled off toward the truck and safety. “If you weren’t a Dawson, you’d be nothing. All you have is your brothers’ reputation. And those two? They’re the walk.” His lips curled into a cruel smile. “You’re just the talk.”

  Gage ignored the jab and took a mental step back to assess the situation. Bobby and Vince had him flanked, and the fourth was past them and coming up at his back. At this point it didn’t matter what he did. Two of them, he could handle. Maybe three in a real pinch. But not four. One way or another, he was in for a beating. So he could stand here and take it—or go down fighting.

  That wasn’t even a question. After all, he was a Dawson.

  “Just talk, huh?” He grinned and faced Dean fully, his fists clenched and ready. If he was going down, he’d make sure the bastard had a few souvenirs of his own. “All right, Deputy Dean. Let’s test that theory.”

  “Stop it!”

  The female voice rang out like a shot, startling the breath from him. Every head turned toward the sound—and Gage’s heart wrenched sharply as Kyla stepped out from between two cars, looking more vulnerable than ever.

  Chapter 4

  Kyla’s heart lodged in her throat. She forced her hands not to shake as she pointed the can of Mace she’d carried for the past year at the nearest huge man, the one who’d been circling behind Gage. This was a really stupid idea—if she hadn’t been just a little drunk, she never would’ve had the guts to come out here. But she’d done it, and she couldn’t back down now.

  When she finally came out of the bathroom, she’d heard raised voices through the back door. So she’d looked out the window and seen a fight about to happen. She still would’ve ignored it, except it was four against one.

  She knew a little something about being hopelessly outmatched. And she wasn’t about to let it happen here, even if Gage was just as bad as the bartender said. No one deserved this.

  “Well, shit,” the big man in front of her drawled. “You gonna squirt me with your hairspray?”

  She smiled sweetly. “It’s Mace.”

  He blinked and backed away.

  “Kyla?” Gage stared at her, half-turned away from the man who’d been about to punch him. “What are you doing?”

  “Helping you.” She approached slowly, still holding the can out like a shield. Now her legs wanted to shake, and her stomach was doing that flip-flop thing again. “Are you all right?”

  A half-smile formed on his lips. “I’m fine,” he said. “But you should—”

  “Watch out!”

  She was still too far away to stop the man right in front of Gage, who’d taken advantage of the distraction to drive a fist in his gut. Gage doubled over with a barking cough, and the man punched him in the face, so hard she could hear the impact. Hard enough to slam him against the car next to him. He bounced off and hit the pavement—and somehow bounded back to his feet.

  Furious, Kyla sprinted at the aggressor and blasted him with the Mace. The spray hit him full in the face.

  The man gagged, stumbled back and dropped to his knees. He swiped at his face, letting out horrible cawing sounds as his eyes squeezed shut and the skin around them turned an angry maroon.

  “Kyla!” Suddenly Gage was at her side, one hand out as if to stop her. “Oh, sh—” He cut himself off with effort. “You okay?”

  She nodded slowly, her gaze riveted to the man she’d sprayed. She’d never actually used this stuff on anyone, and never expected to. It just helped her feel safe. From the way he was trying to spit between thin screams, she guessed some of it had gotten in his mouth.

  Well, at least she knew it worked now.

  Two of the others rushed over and helped the man to his feet. As they did, Gage stepped forward and shielded her with an arm. “We’re done here,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You just get out of here and go clean him up. Understand?”

  Kyla knew he was making sure they didn’t start anything with her. She appreciated it, because there wasn’t much spray left in the canister.

  The injured man snarled and forced his eyes open. They were so bright red, they practically glowed. “So now you’re getting your girlfriends to save you?” he said, his voice gravel-rough. “That’s low, Dawson. Even for you. Did you plan this out, or just get lucky?”

  “I’m not his girlfriend.” Somehow Kyla managed to speak in normal tones, as she finally got around to wondering where Jenny went. “I just don’t like bullies.”

  The man let out a withering laugh. “Well, then. I guess you picked the wrong side.”

  “Oh my God. Dean!”

  The female voice came from behind her. She half-turned and saw Jenny run past her, headed for the other man. The woman shoved one of his friends away and put an arm around him. “Oh, babe, what happened?” She directed a fierce glare at Gage. “What did you do to him?”

  Kyla’s head spun a little. “What…?” she whispered.

  “Long story,” Gage said to her. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Dean shook free of his supporters and stepped forward. “This isn’t over, Dawson.”

  “It is for tonight.”

  The man glared for a long moment, then turned on a heel and jerked his head, stumbling a bit as he walked away. The rest of them followed without a word.

  Gage stayed where he was until the truck peeled out of the parking lot with Jenny at the wheel. When it was gone, he stepped back and leaned against the car, then folded an arm across his stomach and let his head fall forward. “You’re a crazy woman,” he said, panting slightly. “Knew I liked you.”

  Concern drove all the questions out of her mind. “You said you were okay.”

  “I am. Just need a minute.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Son of a…gun caught me off guard. He was wearing both his rings, too.” Finally, he lifted his head.

  There was a deep gash under one green eye, and the skin around it was already starting to bruise and swell.

  “Oh, no. You’re bleeding.” This time she couldn’t keep her hands from shaking as she thrust the Mace back in her purse and found a travel pack of tissues. “Here,” she said, fumbling one free. “Let me…”

  He touched her arm gently and waited until she looked at him. “I’m okay,” he said deliberately. “Trust me, it would’ve been a lot worse without you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I believe it.”

  “Good.” He smiled and took the tissue, wincing as he dabbed at his eye. “Well, that’s going to look real pretty tomorrow,” he said.

  Kyla drew a long breath and forced herself to calm down. “I’ll go in and get some ice from the bartender.”

  “No, d
on’t.” He glanced at the back door and shook his head. “Matt will just call the sheriff’s office, and with my luck they’d send Dean back here. I’ve had enough of him for tonight.”

  She frowned. “The guy who jumped you? Why would the sheriff send him?”

  “Er. You don’t know…” Gage sighed sharply. “Dean is a cop. A deputy, actually.”

  “He’s a cop? Were those other guys cops too?”

  “No, they’re just his scumbag buddies. He’s off duty tonight.”

  A shiver traveled down her spine. “Why would a cop try to beat you up?” she said. “And Jenny…I thought she was your girlfriend.”

  A dark look shadowed his features. “She was a mistake,” he said. “One I won’t be repeating.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry. I must sound like such a jerk.” His face cleared, and he straightened slowly. “I don’t think I actually said this, so thank you. That was about the bravest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. “And I owe you one.”

  She almost laughed. Brave definitely didn’t describe her, especially what she’d just done. More like stupid. She’d been scared out of her mind—even now, everything inside her hummed and fluttered like a cloud of butterflies. “No, you don’t,” she said. “Anyone else would’ve done the same.”

  His smile was painfully sad. “Not for me, they wouldn’t.”

  “You mean because you’re—”

  “A Dawson?” The smile vanished. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  She stared at the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “Don’t worry about it. I should’ve known Matt would jump at the chance to be first in line for the mud-slinging.” He paused, and when she looked up he was smiling a little. “But you came out here anyway. Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So anyway, I meant it. I owe you one,” he said. “How do you feel about pie?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Pie. You know. Pastry filled with—um, pie stuff.” He grinned. “My sister swears it’s the best way to get rid of stress. I just think Pete’s Diner makes great pie.”