“Not with the way you look.”
“Is it that bad?”
“It’s pretty bad. But at least it looks like what happened. It looks like you got beat up, got your ass handed to you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Gin’s eyes got wide as she realized what she had said. “Shit. That’s not what I meant. You were brilliant tonight.”
“I don’t even remember. Where were you? How’d you get there?”
“I have friends. I was in the balcony. I only saw the last part, but I thought you had him. I really did.”
“You gotta be careful. If they knew you were there, after what happened with Joe, if you showed up on camera—”
“I thought you wanted to know what happened.”
Justin groaned in response. You didn’t fuck with the Shadow Masters, and you didn’t break their rules. But that was going to have to be a conversation for another time. He didn’t have the energy. And he did want to know what happened. “Fine. Tell me.”
“Black Jim played dead. He came back alive like some creep in a horror movie. Tripped you up, smashed your head on the floor. Twice.”
“I guess that explains the headache.”
“You nearly had him, you know. You nearly beat Black Jim. The bastard kind of cheated.”
Her comment was a small comfort, but it helped. He relaxed back into the seat, the sense of relief physical, the pain ebbing. He’d almost done it. Hell, he had done well considering everything, especially that shitty glove. Well enough to come through this, maybe.
The car bounced over a pothole and the pain returned—a jolt back to reality. Black Jim would never know. He’d feel nothing but hatred toward Justin. Justin had tried to do right by him, and he’d never know.
But why should that matter? The hatred was deserved, after all. He better never see Black Jim again—wasn’t sure he could face him.
There were moments in that fight, though, flashes that came to him now. The look in those blue eyes. He’d made sure to look, and what had stared back at him was… interest? Excitement? Something. Something that wasn’t hatred at all.
He remembered the weight of Black Jim’s body, his amazing strength as they rolled around, the heat of their blood and sweat against the cold marble floor.
It was still somewhat foggy, but more might come back to him when he watched the video.
Recollection was like a craving. He desperately wanted to remember. Everything.
“Justin.” Gin’s voice rose, her tone producing an immediate panic just from saying his name. “We’re being followed.”
“What?”
Her eyes were trained on the rearview mirror. “There’s a car a few blocks behind. I’ve seen headlights from time to time, but they’re also driving dark, like they’re trying not to be noticed or want us to think there’s more than one car.”
Shit. Had someone seen Gin at the church? “Who the hell—” He turned to look back, but the shooting pain made him realize the effort was futile at the same time it halted his words.
“I don’t know if I want to find out. Do you?”
“Yes, but not if it gets us killed. And we can’t go home. We can’t lead them to Charlie.”
“I’ll double back around. See if I can pull off somewhere.”
“Loop back and head west. We can hide in the old fire station on Burnham. It’s just a shell.”
“Good idea.”
Justin was almost too tired to panic, which was probably good. Panic was futile. Looking behind was futile. But one thought stayed at the forefront of his mind, a premonition he’d had only minutes ago: you don’t fuck with the Shadow Masters, and you don’t break their rules.
HALE COULDN’T believe he’d actually fallen asleep, with the lights on no less. He didn’t remember sleeping, but he must have been, because he was hard as a rock upon waking. Had he been dreaming?
He recognized the pounding knock on the door as one belonging to Benz. He wearily rose from the bed, taking care to keep his head centered on his shoulders and not turn his neck. Naked, he bent down to pick up a sizable handful of old clothes from the floor. He didn’t put them on, just held them in front of his crotch as he went to the door.
He undid two chains and two deadbolts before opening the door to let Benz in.
The guy looked tired. His suit couldn’t counter the shadows under his eyes or the sheen of dried sweat on his face. Hale would feel bad for him if he wasn’t sure he looked a hell of a lot worse. “Hey, Benz,” he said, turning and walking back to bed, still holding the clothes in front of him.
Benz made no comment as Hale sat down on the bed. He stepped inside the door and closed it but didn’t come in any farther.
“Did you find him?”
“No, sorry. They must have spotted me, gave me the slip.”
“Fuck.”
“They were definitely driving north on city roads. My guess would be they live in Bruise City.”
That didn’t narrow it down nearly enough, but it was something.
The two men were silent. Hale’s mind was trying to work, and Benz looked as sad as the lake on a sunless day. Maybe….
“Benz, do you think… could you talk to some of the higher-ups?”
“Please don’t ask me to do that.”
Hale looked back at Benz. Naked. Afraid. He put on his best puppy-dog face, realizing it probably wasn’t going to be as effective when his eyes were swollen half-shut.
“Hale, I’m a bouncer. I’m security. It’s safe. It’s safe for my family. If I start asking around, if I start calling in favors, they’re gonna bring me back in. No more desk job, you know? I’m gonna have to get my hands dirty again.” Benz started removing the tie from his neck. For Benz, it was the equivalent of a fighter taking off the gloves, but still Hale pressed.
“No good friends? No one to keep it on the down low?”
“There’s no such thing as the down low. Privacy has long been a thing of the past.”
“No one you trust? No one to keep your name out of it? This Fray is going to be all anyone is talking about for a while. Someone can’t feign curiosity? It doesn’t have to come back to you, does it?”
“You know what they say about curiosity.”
“Well, shit.”
Benz shoved his tie in his pocket and walked away from the door. He leaned back against Hale’s bike, crossing his arms in front of him and looking down at Hale, who now stared at the floor, more or less.
“What’s up with this kid? Why do you care so much?”
If it was hard for him to explain to himself, how could he explain it to Benz? “I feel… I don’t know… protective?”
“Protective about a kid who could have clawed your face off? Ended your career?”
“But he didn’t. Don’t you see? I don’t know. Call it fighter’s instinct or something. I just get the feeling this kid could be in a lot of trouble. I know it’s fucked-up. I know it’s probably misplaced fatherly bullshit. I been missing Eddie, you know?”
Now he was using his daughter to get his way. He was being a scheming son of a bitch, but that was putting it in terms Benz could understand, wasn’t it? Besides, it was all true. There was more to it, but everything he was saying was true.
Benz sighed. “I agree with you on one point. That kid is in trouble. I don’t like how things went down after you left the church. That girl showing up, that’s reportable. I saw her come out, but I never saw her go in.”
“What happened to her?”
“She drove the car.”
“Girlfriend, maybe?” Hale frowned, and Benz examined him a little more closely, perhaps gauging Hale’s reaction to his own thought.
“Could be.” Benz took a long breath, and Hale held his. Was Benz considering helping him after all? “Let’s say you do find this guy,” Benz continued. “What then?”
“Then we talk. Ask him what his story is.” Hale prepared his most convincing voice, both pleading and authoritative. “This could hel
p us. If we found out what the plan was tonight, why he did it, where the weapon came from, who it came from—that’s important to us. Then we know what game we’re really playing.”
From the look on Benz’s face, this was the line of reasoning Hale should have been using all along. Talking to the Visitor would help them. That, Benz could understand.
It looked like Benz had come to a decision, but the next instant he threw Hale for a loop. “Did you partake of some lady company the other night, Hale?”
“That narc bitch—”
“Don’t call her that. You walked right through the bar from upstairs, jackass. You alerted every security gorilla in the place.”
“Oh.” Hale glanced up and gave a sheepish look. “Whoops?”
“Hale, if I do this, we can’t be making waves. You gotta play it cool, man. If you need to let off some steam, do it elsewhere. Everyone in this building has the same boss, and the employees are paid to be observant. This needs to be under the radar. Way under. It can’t get back to anyone. I mean, look at you. You can’t risk someone seeing the wrong bruise. You know what happens to people that aren’t discreet?”
He should have known Benz was no moral compass, that his partner’s warnings had been for his protection. “I’m sorry,” Hale said. “Maybe Wilma was a mistake.”
“I’m not too worried about that one, but you got lucky. Next time you might not be so lucky, understand?”
Good thing Hale had only interacted with Wilma. He gave a very shallow nod. “I understand.”
Benz came to him and bent down, putting a gentle hand on Hale’s chin. He examined Hale’s face, his ribs. Hale found the gaze rather comforting. It was nice to be taken care of.
“You’ll live,” Benz said at last. “You need any painkillers?”
“No. That’s probably not a good idea.” Besides, Hale wanted to feel the pain. It was the mark of the Visitor, a constant reminder.
“I’ll see what I can do about finding the guy. It might not be anything, but… I’ll try.”
“Thanks, man.”
Benz stood up. “I want to hug you, but you’re pretty naked.”
Hale stood up, still holding the pile of clothes in front of his crotch. “Hug me, then. Just go easy on the ribs.”
Benz put his big arms around Hale, firm but gentle. Hale didn’t return the embrace, but he did lean into the larger man. “I’m so sorry,” Benz said quietly.
“No more of that now.”
“I love you like a brother.”
“I love you too, man.”
“I’ll do what I can. I promise.”
That promise made for Hale’s second dirty victory of the night.
But dirty victories were victories just the same.
AS JUSTIN stood under a stream of hot water, he tried to figure out what it all meant.
After pulling off the road, the car following them had driven by, headlights off. Despite the darkness, the shape of the man behind the wheel had been unmistakable. He was a big hulking beast—Black Jim’s handler.
The most likely explanation was revenge. Justin had brought a weapon to the Fray on that man’s watch. But it didn’t quite make sense. The man had seemed sympathetic, helping Justin off the floor of the church while his own handler did nothing. He wished he had been paying better attention to the words the man had exchanged with Scarecrow. Had Scarecrow said something to make him go after Justin—or Gin?
It could be Gin. To anyone sticking around and observing, she would have been very visible. No one, absolutely no one, was supposed to know about a Shadow Fray except for the two handlers and the two Brawlers. Gin’s presence was akin to a security breach. For all Justin knew, maybe handlers were supposed to dispatch anyone who wandered onto the scene. Might be the guy was tying up a loose end, that being Gin. A chill went through him, even under the hot water of the shower.
But everything would be okay. The danger was over—they’d never meet again. Rematches were exceedingly rare. So Justin would never know why he followed them, never know what he was after.
Who knows? Maybe Justin had somehow earned Black Jim’s respect and the man had been trying to find out where he lived. Justin had nearly beaten him. But so what? Was the handler going to deliver flowers with a little note that said how much of an honor it was to fight against someone so worthy? Of course not. Totally dumb. Or maybe the note would say how sexy it had been rolling around on the hard marble floor of the church, and would he like to do it again sometime? His head said it was ridiculous, but his dick twitched at the idea.
Justin gave a couple playful tugs but quickly shut off the water. It was best not to let the fantasy continue, best not to think about how close he and Black Jim had gotten tonight. It had been crazily primal. The soreness of his fists attested to how much of a surge he’d gotten from the other man. Fighting Black Jim had brought out Justin’s best. As sore as he was, Justin would fight him again in a heartbeat, despite the dangers.
God, he had thought about that fight for so long. Now it had happened. It was over. He kept fluctuating between a warm afterglow and depression.
Justin toweled off gently. He was starting to bruise along his side where he’d been kicked. That one would be a beaut. He wiped the steam from the mirror and surveyed the damage. He’d have another large bruise on his neck. He’d definitely have a black eye on his right side. He had quite a bump on his left side, but it was higher up at the hairline. His lip was fat. He had opened up the deepest slash from his fight two weeks prior, but it no longer bled. This was going to be hard to explain to Ray. He frowned at his reflection—and even the small movement hurt. He could not work in his normal capacity for a while. He was in the same shitty position he was two weeks ago.
Justin put on a loose pair of shorts and headed out into the main living area. It was still dark, but it would be getting light soon. He’d only taken a couple steps when Charlie threw himself around his waist, hugging him tight. He stood for a few moments as Charlie breathed deeply against him. Heaved would be a better description. The poor kid was emotional.
“He wasn’t too happy being left upstairs,” Gin said.
“Of course not.” Justin picked Charlie up carefully, so small for ten, and held him close. “Hey, Char.” He walked to the couch and sat next to Gin. He positioned Charlie carefully on his knee, which was unscathed and largely pain-free.
Charlie turned to look at him from under the brim of his baseball cap. His eyes weren’t wet, but his expression was strained. He put a gentle hand on Justin’s cheek. Justin could see his eyes taking in every injury, starting with his face and traveling the rest of his body.
Determined, Charlie got up and walked to the open kitchen. Justin and Gin didn’t speak but watched as he grabbed four towels from a cupboard and laid them out neatly on the counter—four perfect squares of cloth. Next he went into the freezer and took out two handfuls of ice. He put exactly three cubes on every cloth, having to make a couple return trips since his hands were small. He wrapped up the first cloth carefully as though it were a little present, and then the second one, folding the corners in and twisting it off. With both hands full, he walked over to Justin. He put one of the little ice presents in Justin’s hand and lifted Justin’s hand to his jaw. He put the second one in the opposite hand, lifting it to Justin’s neck. Then he went to retrieve the last two, taking the same care he had with the first. He carried them back to Justin, facing him. He reached one of his hands up to Justin’s temple where he pressed the ice, and the other to Justin’s side. Finally he ducked under Justin’s arms and settled against his shoulder. He was so gentle, making sure he had a light touch.
Justin’s eyes began to water. “Thanks, Bro Bro,” he said softly.
Their family sat quietly for a few moments, and Justin was sure they were all thinking the same thing. They would do whatever they had to in order to stay together. Anything.
Gin broke the spell. “I have to go to work soon. We need to tell Ray.”
“I agree,” Justin said. At this point it was inevitable. Inevitable, but not safe. “Carefully, though. It could put him in danger.” And us. Those last words went unsaid, as if not saying them would somehow make him less afraid.
“Yeah, I get that.” Gin nodded as she spoke. “I’ll figure out a way.”
“No. We’ll all go. If he sees me, maybe we won’t have to use so many words. Just let him put it together, and he can deny we ever told him anything.”
“Are you sure you’re up for that? What if somebody else sees you?”
No, he wasn’t up for it. His sides ached, his face pounded, his eyes wanted to shut. “We’ll go now, while it’s still dark. Charlie too. I think that will have the most impact.”
“I think we can trust him.”
“I hope so,” Justin said, but his gut was clenched so hard it felt like he’d eaten stones.
And that didn’t feel like hope.
Chapter 14
THE LIGHT entering his window did nothing to lighten Hale’s mood. He’d been unable to sleep after Benz left. His emotions were as multihued as his bruises. Relief. Excitement. Guilt.
But mostly loneliness.
Emotions didn’t feel right to him. Growing up in his small community, he hadn’t had many friends, no boys exactly his age. He got along fine with his sisters, but he wasn’t working side by side with them. He’d gotten attention from some older boys, one in particular, but that relationship certainly couldn’t be called emotional.
And he didn’t miss his parents. The only ones he gave a thought to were his sisters, but it wasn’t so much missing an emotional connection as the guilt of leaving them behind. They were victims as much as he had been.
The first person he’d had an emotional connection with had been Janie. Even then, he hadn’t fallen in love with her as much as succumbed to her attentions. He’d been like an injured wild animal to her, one she couldn’t help but want to heal and tame. He wasn’t used to anyone’s care or affection, not until she offered him hers.
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