Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3

by Bianca Sommerland

  Ezran’s reveal of his assault at the hands of the gang member had come in sharp sound bytes for months. Never the full picture. Over time, however, Curtis had heard enough to piece together the order of events, giving him a sickening understanding of exactly what Ezran had endured.

  Elbows on his knees, he contemplated his bloody knuckles. Let the sting distract him from the helplessness dogging him. “Fuck.”

  A shadow fell over the floor and he looked up, expecting Ezran. Framed in the bathroom doorway, Noah regarded him, gray eyes calm. Curtis sat up straighter, resisting the urge to hide his hand.

  The man hadn’t so much as sought him out for a coffee since coming home. Conversations were limited to arguments and demands concerning Matt and Jamie. For a moment, he thought maybe Noah had finally decided to spend some time talking. Late-night coffee klatches had once been his forte.

  “Hey—”

  “Where’s Ezran?”

  Curtis frowned past Noah, toward Ezran’s closed bedroom door. “He might already be asleep, but I know he’d love to—”

  Noah snapped his fingers, head jerking toward Curtis’s bedroom. “Open your safe.”

  Before he’d fully registered the command, Curtis was standing. Moving toward his bedroom. What would Noah want with his fake passport and ID? The cash he’d stashed in there, maybe? His fingers pressed the combination on autopilot, the digits part of muscle memory.

  The door clicked open. Turning, he opened his mouth to ask Noah what he needed.

  Hand raking through Curtis’s hair, fingers tightening, Noah lifted his lips in a cold smile. Leaned over, reaching into the safe. “Forgiven.”

  Curtis blinked as Noah released him, tucking something in his jacket on his way out the door. Turning to close the safe, Curtis glanced inside. Nothing was missing…

  Except his gun.

  Three thoughts slammed into Curtis’s brain at the same time and got him moving.

  Noah’s an ex-con—he’ll be thrown back into prison if he’s caught with that gun.

  The second, registered as his door bounced against the wall while he ran into the hall, toward the stairs.

  Noah is going to shoot someone.

  The third, nearly had him tripping over his feet on the way down the stairs to the bar. Somehow, he didn’t know how…

  Noah knows about Ezran.

  He clattered into the bar, headed toward the front door when Doc’s sharp grunt brought him up short. A few steps away, arm around Noah’s neck, Doc lowered the other man. He bent as Noah sagged, the gun dropping to the floor out of reach.

  “Get some rope, man.” Doc gritted the order, visibly applying pressure to the side of Noah’s neck.

  Curtis rushed to grab the coil of rope stashed under the bar for impromptu scenes, bringing it to Doc as Noah slumped backward. Rope slipping automatically through his fingers, Curtis formed the loops and knots that would secure Noah’s hands behind his back, then his hands to his ankles. Doc let go completely only when the rope was bound off and Noah placed on his side.

  Taking the gun, Curtis dumped the clip and put it in his pocket. “Fuck.”

  Doc regarded him coolly. “Yes. Fuck. Care to explain?”

  Raking his fingers through his hair, Curtis looked from Noah to the stairs. “I… No. Yes. I think I should do something first though.” He met Doc’s thin-lipped stare. There was only one person who Noah might listen to—who might know how to handle Noah in this fucked-up headspace. “Rhodey.”

  The one-word explanation shifted Doc’s expression from anger to resignation. He sat back on his heels, fingers going to Noah’s carotid. Gaze level, he felt Noah’s pulse and nudged his chin toward the bar phone. “Go ahead then.”

  Taking out his wallet, Curtis slid the card with Noah’s uncle’s number from one of the empty credit card slots. At the bar, he lifted the phone, considered the dial pad, then shook his head. Sure as shit, Noah wasn’t going to listen to him or to Lawson, and Doc was totally on his short list of ‘frenemies’ at present. Tracey would be an option, but she needed rest, not more stress.

  Decision made, he punched in the numbers. Waited for the call to connect. After one ring, a familiar voice answered. “Go.”

  “Rhodey? It’s Curtis.”

  A rustling sound said he’d probably caught the man in bed. “I assume you’re not looking for me to handle any more family members.”

  Clenching the receiver harder, Curtis shook his head. “It’s Noah.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  The call disconnected. Curtis looked over to Doc, who tipped a glass of water he’d gotten to Noah’s lips. Curtis thought about going over to apologize, to ask what he’d been thinking, why he’d taken the gun, and discarded every thought. No fucking way was he trusting himself around Noah right now. Maybe ever again. The man had proved he could pole vault over any defense Curtis might’ve built up to safeguard common sense.

  Say the right words, my man, and I’d probably let you walk free.

  Twenty-five minutes. The same amount of time it took to get from Tracey’s to The Asylum. After driving through the front gates, then parking, Rhodey buzzed himself in.

  Bigger than Noah, close-shaved hair showing off razor-sharp features, gray eyes a shade darker than his nephew’s, Rhodey strode into the bar, his attention snapping to Noah.

  On his side on the floor, Noah tracked the man’s movements. “I’m surprised it took you this long.”

  Lowering to his haunches, Rhodey canted his head. “Tracey thought I should give you a chance to work it out.”

  Noah nodded, licking his lips. “How long?”

  Gaze shuttered, Rhodey hoisted Noah up. “As long as it takes.”

  Curtis started to protest when Rhodey began unwinding the rope, then realized Noah wouldn’t be going anywhere. The man had taken down an entire garrison of his father’s men single-handed.

  He frowned as the implications of the conversation, of Rhodey’s presence, hit him. Memories of his first interactions with Noah rolled over him. The months when he only ate when Noah fed him, slept in twenty-minute to two-hour increments—when he was lucky—and had every ounce of arrogance beaten out of him. Noah had learned those reconditioning ‘techniques’ from someone.

  From Rhodey...

  “Wait—” Curtis stepped from behind the bar.

  Noah’s gaze cut to him and he stopped short, unable to move forward. Unwilling to retreat. The entirety of his experience with this man rolled over him. He clenched his fists. How could he have been broken and remade by someone breakable?

  “I fucking trusted you.” The words came out—he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

  “I’m…” Noah shook his head. “It’ll be fine, Curtis. I’ll be back. Take care of Jamie.”

  He nodded, if only because Jamie deserved not to be left. Not like this. None of them did. But one way or another, they’d all pick up the pieces again.

  Hopefully, the man Rhodey returned to them resembled the one he once knew.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The snow fell heavier, hit the windshield harder the further upstate they drove. Noah settled back in his seat, observing the familiar mountain ridges glowing under distant lights, the black of the trees whipping by. A little over two months ago, his uncle had driven him down the same long road from the prison to bring him home.

  Traveling this way again, part of him wondered if he was going back. But he knew better. Rhodey hadn’t wanted him locked up in the first place. As though killing a man was nothing but an inconvenience or some shit. With the life he lived, the mindset made sense for the man, but Noah refused to be let off easy because of his connections.

  He’d still be in prison if not for the risks Curtis took getting the information needed to make a deal with the Feds. Given the choice, Noah would’ve fucking told him to let him rot. Secure safety and happiness for himself and forget him.

  At this point, Curtis was probably thinking he should’ve done exactly that.
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  “You gonna let me know what set you off?”

  Noah glanced over at his uncle. A request?

  Yep. This is going to get fucked up.

  He gave the man a tight smile. “No.”

  Rhodey nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the dark road. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? We should all be grateful you didn’t end up killing one of the very people you asked me to protect. You should have told me I’d have to protect them from you. We could’ve dealt with this months ago.”

  “I’d never hurt them.” He fisted his hand on his thigh. “Any more than necessary.”

  “Jesus, do you hear yourself? Giving Lawson a concussion and broken ribs was necessary?” Rhodey let out a cold laugh. “And it’s not hard to figure out what you did to Curtis. You can’t be trusted with that kind of power. Maybe I should work with him to take it from you.”

  A chill spilled through Noah’s veins. He wanted Curtis to hate him, wanted him to take back that control himself so he’d never be vulnerable to anyone again. But Rhodey’s methods would only give the man a third Master. Curtis barely had any resistance against Noah. With Rhodey, he’d reach the point where he wouldn’t want any.

  Like you?

  Noah smirked at himself in the reflection of the window. He was a lost cause. No need to drag anyone else down with him. He kept his tone light. “If you try, I’ll kill you.”

  “Is that so? I guess you caring enough to threaten me is something.” Rhodey drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, shooting him a calculated look Noah caught from the corner of his eye. “What about the others? You’ve given up on Lawson—the right training and you’ll be the one unconscious on that canvas next time. That one needs someone to push him out of his orderly little world.”

  “He doesn’t need anything from you.” Noah tamped down the urge to react as Rhodey tested every possible trigger. Not that he’d be able to hold back for long. His uncle wouldn’t push past Noah’s defenses as he’d done to Curtis. He’d blast through every one until there was nothing left.

  “We shall see.” Rhodey was quiet for a long time. When he spoke again, his tone had lost the icy edge. He sounded tired. “Your mother told me you’ve kept your distance from the boys. You knew not everything was right in that head of yours. Why not come to me yourself?”

  Noah arched a brow. “Do we have that kind of relationship now, Uncle? I must have missed that. My apologies.”

  “Keep it up, Noah.” Rhodey tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “You’re showing me exactly how much work we have ahead of us.”

  “Then I hope your schedule’s clear.” Noah leaned his head on the backrest and closed his eyes. “I’d hate to take you away from some important person who needs to die.”

  Rhodey’s soft laugh made all the hairs on the back of Noah’s neck rise. He reached out and fisted his hand in Noah’s hair, jerking him closer, his attention no longer on the road, though he managed to keep the car steady. “That’s rich coming from someone who’d been set to take to the streets with a gun. Who were you going to kill, my boy? Another gangster?”

  “All of them.”

  The answer came before Noah could stop himself and Rhodey released him with a low curse. The boiling rage he’d leveled out so it would simmer until the job was done spilled over. What Jamie had told him about Ezran blanked out everything else. He eyed the door handle. Depending on where Rhodey was taking him, there were one of two turns he’d have to take within the next mile, both into residential areas for a long stretch that would force him to slow. Not enough to make for an easy landing when Noah jumped, but the injuries wouldn’t slow him down.

  Within an hour he could be back in Anniston Falls.

  “Don’t. If you run, I’ll catch you and break both your fucking legs.” Rhodey took the turn to the left, dramatically reducing his speed, likely to give Noah the very opportunity he’d been waiting for.

  Knowing Noah wouldn’t take it.

  My uncle is very good at this game.

  Another hour passed. They turned onto a long dirt road, almost impossible to find among the thick trees without knowing the exact location. The standard for Rhodey’s safehouses. This wasn’t one Noah had been to before, but the tracks leading up to the simple, two-story brick building told him Rhodey had been here recently.

  To prepare for Noah’s arrival.

  Before a single call was made.

  Parked on a small patch of pavement in front of the attached garage, Rhodey exited the vehicle. Came around and opened the passenger side door. “Get out.”

  Noah slid out of the car, breathing in the crisp air and absorbing what would likely be the only freedom of movement he’d have for the near future. He couldn’t let his uncle see any weakness or uncertainty, but as he kept to the man’s side, his gaze shifted to the snow piled up along the walkway. Fluffy and white, like Jamie’s hair first thing in the morning before he tamed it with product. Fuck, what would Jamie think of him now? Would he realize Noah was as cold as the blanket of white that would soon cover the ground over the long winter months in Anniston Falls? Had he ever seen the snow? In the beginning, he’d probably be amazed by it, but the newness would lose its appeal before long.

  Still, Noah wanted to be there when he experienced it for the first time. Keep him warm and let him enjoy those first moments, even if they couldn’t last. Damn it, why couldn’t he have shown more control? Enough to stay with Jamie, to let him be the one to leave when the time was right?

  Instead he had to trust that Curtis would be gentle with him. Would find some excuse for Noah’s absence. Maybe the truth would be best. Jamie could go back to his old life while Noah was gone and forget The Asylum. Forget him.

  How fucking selfish was it that he hoped the man would wait for him? That he could go back and… And know there would be someone who’d want to see him again.

  “Wait.” Noah jerked away when Rhodey latched on to his arm. “I won’t fight you, but I need to make a phone call. I can’t leave Jamie like this.”

  “You asked Curtis to take care of him. He will.”

  As if his uncle didn’t know it wasn’t that fucking simple. “I ordered him to stay in my room. What if Curtis can’t get through to him?”

  Rhodey’s eyes narrowed as he shoved him toward the front door. “Then you’ve been careless with your sub—made him rely on you too much when you hadn’t even begun rebuilding your own fucking life. What exactly do you have to offer him right now, Noah?”

  Nothing. I have nothing.

  He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. He’d given Jamie what he needed. “I gave him something real.”

  “That you believe that is damn sad.” Rhodey unlocked the door and swung it wide. “Is real surrounding him with enemies who used to be the people you loved? Or keeping yourself locked behind those walls like you’re still in a fucking cage?”

  “I’m asking for one phone call before you start your mind-games, you twisted bastard.” Noah retreated a step, taking himself out of Rhodey’s reach. He didn’t stand much of a chance in a fight against the man, but to give Jamie something to hold on to while he was gone, he’d damn well try. “Don’t make this difficult.”

  “Get in the fucking house, Noah. I won’t ask you again.”

  “Because you’re so fucking eager to watch me bleed?” Noah shifted sideways, catching a glimpse of the gun in the holster strapped to Rhodey’s chest.

  If he got to it, he could make Rhodey give him the phone. He’d suffer far worse than what his uncle already had planned, but it would be worth it to spare his little cat some pain.

  His lips slanted as Rhodey went still, watching him warily. “Tell me, would killing me be easier because you see my father when you look at me? A shame I have my mother’s eyes. I imagine we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now otherwise.”

  Rhodey chuckled and shook his head. “A conversation? No, Noah, you’re playing your games. Which might be more effec
tive if you weren’t so desperate.” He lunged forward, catching Noah’s arm when he reached for the gun. Twisting his wrist, he slammed Noah face-first into the doorframe. Hissed in Noah’s ear. “And if you weren’t trying to play them with me.”

  Blood spilled from a cut above Noah’s left eye, leaving him half-blind as Rhodey muscled him into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He brought him down to the basement, into a room the exact same size Noah’s cell had been.

  Everything was the same. Noah’s stomach turned and he shoved back. Growled as Rhodey lifted him off his feet, then tossed him into the room. His palms and knees scraped the bare cement as he caught himself before he hit the metal bed frame, which was bolted into the floor.

  “You missed your cage so much, I made you a new one.” Rhodey stood in the doorway, staring down at Noah, who pushed off the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. “There’s no one to fight beside me. No way for you to get yourself put back in prison because you believe you still need to be punished. Your punishments will be at my hand. Your life will be under my control until you’re ready to take it back and actually fucking live again.”

  Noah inclined his head. There was no use arguing with any of Rhodey’s points. The only way to get out of here was to convince him he’d accomplished his tasks. “And how will you decide I’m ready?”

  “Depends how well you cooperate.”

  “Good.” Noah stood. Pulled off his shirt and kicked off his boots. His uncle would let him keep his boxers on.

  Thankfully, Rhodey hadn’t asked Doc—who’d been introduced to Noah when he was eighteen, adding another level to his training his uncle obviously couldn’t provide—to come along. There were a lot of things Noah would tolerate to prove he wasn’t as unstable as Rhodey—and everyone else—believed. Submitting in that way wasn’t one of them.

  The very idea had him grinding his teeth and he found himself reverting to old habits he’d thought were long dead. “Let’s get this over with, asshole.”