Blanching, Irina yanked out of his reach. “Excuse me?” Russian accent now gone, and fear in her eyes, Irina glanced around the bar.
Lex followed her gaze as it darted to dark corners and then to the only way in and out.
“You heard me. What is that?” Lex felt the last hour of fucked up decisions sway in his belly as he gathered himself. The sound of a barstool clattering to the ground brought his attention back to his side where Irina stood. Making to move forward, Lex stumbled over his forgotten sack on the floor and barreled into the woman. Air whooshed from his lips when her soft body collided into the wall that was Lex.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he caught himself and grabbed her arm before she hit the ground.
Crying out, Irina scrambled away from him. She threw her hands in the air in a surrendering gesture. Watery eyes met his as she spoke. “You tell Cole I got ’til dawn to get him his money.”
The abject terror in her eyes caught him by surprise. Who the fuck is Cole, and how the fuck did I mess this up so bad? Kicking his pack out of the way, Lex started to take a step closer and use his muddled brains to explain the misunderstanding when a blast from the past sidled up beside the hooker.
Placing an arm over her shoulders, Abbott—wearing his old Abbott’s corner store work shirt—asked, “You bothering this little lady?”
Layers of dirt and lake water, his scruffy beard and the years wartime had weighted onto him hid his identity from everyone he’d seen since he’d arrived home, but not Abbott. That slimy ass bastard squinted, taking in every inch of Lex’s fucked up face.
Eyes narrowed as recognition hit. “Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he whooped. “If it ain’t Alex Montgomery.” Lex cringed at the use of his whole name. “Thief, liar, and all around no good piece of shit. God damn, boy, you in here scaring the whores. How they gonna want to fuck if they scared of your big ass?”
Lex took Abbott, who was in his sixties at least, in. The small man held on tight to the hooker even as she struggled to get away.
Pinning him with a glare, Lex said, “She ain’t got no reason to be scared of me.” Realizing the situation had gone from bad to royally fucked up, Lex decided it was time to leave. When he bent down and reached for his sac, Abbott’s foot struck like a coiled snake, punting it out of reach. Laughter erupted from some of the drunk men scattered around them.
Taking in a deep breath through his nostrils, Lex marshalled the last of his pieces of his sober brain and stood. Fists balled at his sides and body loose, he was ready to act. Who the fuck does Abbott think he’s fucking with? Trained fighter versus drunk grandpa would most likely go viral online if there was anyone around smart enough to film him breaking Abbott’s nose. Lex glanced at the shaking woman, her fear directed toward both Lex and Abbott. And once again he wondered what’d he gotten himself into tonight. Not wanting to spook the chick or accidently hit her when his target was a bloodshot-eyed old man, Lex backed down.
Abbott’s eyes roved over the hooker’s face only to make their way down her body. His gaze lingered on her breasts as they swelled with each breath before he stated, “Well, she seems right damned scared to me.” Abbott shook the woman, her frightened moan adding to his comments.
Lex wasn’t about to say that the chick was probably terrified she’d have his sixty-year-old balls swinging in her face later in order to come up with that fucking off the hook money.
“You scared, ain’t you, honey?” He shook her again, harder this time. “This bastard got you scared for some reason?” His hardened tone forced an explanation from her.
Irina, if that were her real name, whimpered. “H-he wants my off the hook money, but I got ’til dawn and it ain’t even three a.m. yet,” she whined.
Lex didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. He’d asked a question, and now he had the entire bar staring at him like he was some sort of—
“Pimp!” Abbott slapped his knee and guffawed. His old, rheumy, bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Old Lex here is trying his hand at selling pussy?”
Lex stiffened at the accusation. Who the fuck would think the kid of a working girl would ever turn to selling sex? Abbott’s words felt like a bullet to the leg throwing his ass off kilter. He staggered back a step; the liquor in his system aided his shitty balance and the bad decision making part of his brain.
His lip curled back in warning. “Watch your words, old man.” Lex’s voice deepened, his fists balled at his sides, liquor morphing into I’ll fuck you up fuel.
Abbott released the girl only to grip her wrist. “Watch what, son? I ain’t the one walking ’round here picking up cash for pussy.”
Lex sneered. “No, you’re just walking around here hoping one of these women are stupid enough to let you fuck ’em.”
A large, dark-haired man shoved a woman off his lap and stood. Eyeing Lex like some fucking carnival prize, he made his way and took residence to Abbott’s left. Abbott smirked and pushed the hooker into the bar where she stood frozen in fear. Hell, she thought Lex was here to collect money for her pimp and then there were the several drunk bikers and truckers hyped up on liquor and testosterone who just might be ready to pounce, too. Lex came to release steam between the legs of a woman, but it seemed the universe, as per usual, had different plans. He glanced down at his sac; he definitely needed to keep an eye on it. His life was in there. Money, food, and anything else he’d need if shit went sideways and he needed to leave town in a hurry.
“Boy, you seem to be dumb, deaf, and blind.” He gestured around him. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned, son.” Lex didn’t bother to glance around. The second he entered the bar he took stock of then possible threats inside; he’d also made sure to keep an eye on out for those coming and going. Right now, of all the men in the bar, there were only three who posed any sort of real threat, and only one of them stood at Abbott’s side. The others were too fucking drunk or engrossed in their paid entertainment for the night.
The man taking up Abbott’s left spat on the ground. “You fucking with this pretty little thing?”
Lex took a deep breath, “No, but it seems you want to see it that way.” He spread his arms wide in invitation. “So, boys, you looking to go?” Fuck it. If they want it, I’ll give it to them. He needed a release tonight and the idea of beating two stupid motherfuckers into the ground was his preferred method of burning energy. A loud bang came from the bar, and the sound of a bat slapping against skin followed. Busty barkeep had most likely pulled her peacekeeper from under the bar.
“I swear, y’all better take that shit out front,” she yelled over the blaring country music. Lex refused to look away from the men gearing up for a fight. He sensed he’d only have to fight these two. Shit, no one else was paying much attention or cared that a woman was scared she was gonna get her ass beat over some money. Blackies held a diverse class of men, from truckers to husbands not getting their knobs polished by old wives at home, and most wanted their presence at the bar kept hush. Abbott, being the dick he was known to be around town, would definitely have no qualms about raising hell.
“Dana, shut your damned mouth and let us handle this,” Abbott called. He glanced at her, his finger pointing in her direction. “You hang up that phone, darlin’.”
“Hell, no. I’m calling the law,” she yelled back.
Meanwhile, Lex kept his eyes on the big bastard who’d not once taken his eyes off Lex.
Pointing a beefy finger at Lex, the man said, “I know you. You been running around here acting like some sort of wild man.” He spat again, and stepped forward. “Killed that deer right outside my shed. Left the guts for me to clean up.”
Oh, so that’s who owned that place? Lex hadn't even thought to clean up the mess he’d made.
Slowly, Lex allowed his hand to fall to his side. “Man’s got to eat.” Tilting his body forward, to hide his hand as it made way for his knife tucked in his waistband, Lex gripped the leather wrapped handle of the blade. Shit was about to get ugly if the man’s
grimace and stance was any indication. Lex sensed a man on edge, mix that with liquor and sex and you had a room full of cocks and no brains. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. His dick urged him to turn back while his fists thirsted for blood. A snarl emanated from the man’s chest. Trained to detect threats long before they actually became one, Lex felt the shift in the air. He sensed the second the man decided to move from shit talking to violence.
“Fuck it,” he yelled as he threw the first punch. Blood, spit, and snot sprayed as his fist connected. He knew after this he’d have to run; he couldn’t stay in town. Because he if stayed he’d end up right where the whole town thought he’d belonged all those years ago—right in prison alongside his no-good, murdering father.
Blood coated Lex’s hand as it swelled from connecting with bone and cartilage and it felt fucking good. The release of pent-up rage in the form of breaking a bone or two left Lex feeling a sense of euphoria, and damned if it hadn't sobered him up a bit, too. Hefting his pack over his shoulder, he gripped the fence in one hand, then used the other to steady his weight as he propelled himself over it into some dude’s backyard. His pack held only the essentials—a few clean clothes, a first aid kit, a Ka-Bar survival knife, and light food. There wasn’t much more a man on the run needed, however, Lex wouldn’t mind an ice cold fucking beer. Heading into another bar in his hometown would be the equivalent of marrying a fucking stripper for love. He’d make a quick stop over at Earl’s, grab some food, and then head down south.
Lex’s feet made quick and quiet work, eating up the distance between himself and the noise from the street. Sirens screamed, men shouted, and squealing brakes pierced the night. All in good fun during the witching hour in the dregs of Blackwater. Moving faster, Lex pulled the sheet of paper from his pocket. Scanning it again, he realized he was four streets away from Earl’s new complex. Once he arrived at his destination, Lex stopped and gathered his breath. Liquor and sprinting were not a great combination. After getting his shit together, Lex jogged toward the complex of homes.
Earl had moved from his old five-bedroom house and into a neighborhood that sported smaller houses. The moniker read Tranquil Falls; all the houses looked the same and Lex nearly skidded to a halt as he read the senior living sub title. Earl was old, but the last time he saw him, Earl had been up and moving around on his own without issue. Lex ran, his lungs feeling the burn as he stopped in a field behind the complex. Shoving his way through bushes, he made his way to the front yard and checked the house number. Off by three houses, Lex jogged down until he stood behind Earl’s beat-up old pickup. He placed his hand on the old, weathered truck. He’d spent summers trying to get the thing to run and stop leaking oil. He peeked inside, the aged vinyl seating puckered and peeled, yet everything else was just like old Earl had always kept it—pristine and neat. The sound of sirens lit a fire under Lex’s ass. He headed up the drive and onto the porch. Knocking once, and then realizing Earl was half deaf ten years ago, Lex abandoned the front door and headed to the backyard.
“Guess I’m going in through the fucking window,” he muttered.
Thump. Thump. Thea woke from a dreamless sleep to the sounds of an animal lurking outside her window—again. Last night it was a possum with sharp teeth, beady red eyes, and pale white fur. It’d been the cutest thing she’d ever seen … that was until the neighbor shot him. Blood soaked her from head to toe, the siding of the house needed to be power washed, and Thea had picked brains and fur out of her hair.
Rolling over in bed, she lifted the pillow and crushed it over her head. Sleep shouldn’t be so hard to obtain. Especially, not after working all day in the ER and then coming home and caring for her ailing grandfather. The thrill of memorizing and learning new information was what kept Thea driven to excel. It was like a rush to her. So, at the moment, it was unclear as to why she couldn’t remember any of the bones in the foot. Most people counted sheep, but Thea recited bones, the Constitution, or rare infectious diseases and their causes. A bit morbid? Maybe. But it sure worked.
A shuffling sounded outside her window. Raccoons no doubt. Now, those little bastards hated her and plotted to drive her insane. She forgot to latch down the cover on the garbage, and if she went out there now, she would interrupt a raccoon smorgasbord and she’d be damned if she’d do that again.
Lifting the pillow from her head and kicking the covers from her overheated body, Thea listed the bones in the foot. “Talus, tarsus, navicular—”
Thump. Thump. Thea sat up, confusion clouding her already sleep deprived mind. Now that sounded like footsteps outside of her window. “Calcaneus, cuboid.” She lay back down, sure her mind was creating sounds just to keep her awake, confused, and out of her head. Getting comfortable, she started again, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, the familiar sound of a bell clanged, jolting her upright.
Throwing her bare legs over the side of the bed, Thea rose. She shoved her legs into some yoga pants, headed out of her room, and bounded down the hall. The tinkling bell sounded again, forcing her to pick up the pace. Earl’s bedroom sat on the far north side of their small, humble abode. His room offered little privacy, and with reason. Placing her hand on the door, Thea pushed a bit and a crack formed. Pill bottles lined the dresser along with old pictures and a few dusty knick knacks.
“Did you need me?” she asked. This old folk’s community catered to the timeworn and ailing, but when Earl’s caregiver had given her the brochure to the complex, the sticker shock Thea felt had nearly sent her to her knees. “Paw Paw?” Though the bell was meant to call Thea when Earl was in need, Thea always tried to offer Earl the one thing sick and elderly people were forced to give up after being poked and prodded, x-rayed and coddled all day: a semblance of privacy. Earl might have been used to being unable to find his own adytum, however, not while Thea had any say in the matter.
A cough sounded from the room. “Come on in, child.” His weakened voice worried her. Thea leaned in, and placing her forehead on the cool wood she closed her eyes. Cancer. Cancer didn’t just destroy the cells it ravished, no, cancer spread like a plague, claiming healthy cells, minds, and hearts of even those around its intended victim. The treatments, chemo, or radiation could kill cancer—or at least it tried—but the one thing those treatments couldn’t kill was the fear, pain, and sorrow. She watched every day as the man she knew became a shell. And it wasn’t even the fact that she was powerless to help, but that her Paw Paw took this illness with such grace as she cried herself to sleep begging God or anyone else who would listen to take her pain away made it worse. Selfish, horrible girl she was to ask for relief as her Paw Paw lay only a few feet away from her fading.
With a sigh and a smile, Thea pushed open the door. “Paw Paw.” She took in the room she straightened earlier that day. On her way to the bed, Thea picked up the pitcher of water and poured him a cup. Placing it in his hand, she situated herself on the side of the bed and waited as he took a sip.
Earl handed the cup back to Thea. “I didn’t want to wake you up, child.” White, bushy eyebrows dipped into a frown. “I just heard some noises outside and I thought it was you out there fiddling with that darned trashcan again.”
She smirked and stood. “No, no … I heard it, too, but I’m sure it’s that family of raccoons again.” Thea tucked his comforter in. Summer nights were warm, but the AC blasted cool air throughout. His thin frame worried her as he was unable to fight away the chill in the air like most.
“Good, I hate when you go out there so late. I hope you didn’t do that crazy mess while you were in New York.” Smiling, he reached for her. Cool hands met her cheek and Thea leaned in to his caress. “I want you safe, Thea. I always want you safe. Even when …” He paused, and his hand shook from either emotion or sickness; the unspoken words of his imminent death hung between them, the stench of it so acrid it threatened to suffocate her.
“Ah, don’t you cry, Thea-bear.” His thumb caressed her cheek.
Thea took in a deep, c
alming breath. Of the miracles occurring around the world, the lives saved, babies born, and death evaded, Thea couldn’t comprehend why her Paw Paw wasn’t granted the same reprieve. He’d sat in the front pew in church every Sunday, he’d taken in the sick and the poor, and he’d prayed for those in need when he was in fact in need.
She smirked. “I want me safe from them raccoons, too.” Earl chuckled. “Well, you go head and laugh, but those little bastards can be mean when they want to be.” She didn’t trust raccoons or any animals with little, human-like hands. “Plus, they steal Ollie’s food. That poor cat went two days without kibble because of those heathen things.”
When Earl’s laughter turned in to a bout of coughing, Thea placed her hand on his trembling shoulders until he was able to speak again.
Earl pulled his water to his lips. “You the only child I know who loves herself a possum, but can’t stand the sight of a raccoon.” He pinched her cheek as he took a small sip.
Her Paw Paw was one of a kind. The sort of man who bent over backwards for a stranger, and he’d instilled those same values in Thea. She’d dropped out of school to care for him, causing her at the time fiancé to up and move on, but that hadn’t bothered her. What bothered her more than anything was the fact that she’d soon have to live without Earl—his kind smile, helping hand, and ability to give her strength when she had lost her way. Earl had always had more faith in Thea than anyone in her life … well, not including Lex, who bounded his way out of her life the second he had the chance to. She shrugged inwardly. There was nothing she could do about the past, and with such a dreadful future laid ahead of her, Thea just didn’t have the time to reminisce.
Thea patted his leg. “Paw Paw, possums just want to be left alone and they’ll play dead before they even think to attack.” Each one she’d ever come across had done nothing but freeze until Thea finished taking out the trash. She even named the smallest one Luther. “Now, a raccoon …” She shuddered. “Those beady-eyed little bastards are guileful.”
Rogue In Love: Thea and Lex: Love Against the Odds Page 2