Chapter 5

Jack

God, she was beautiful.

When I first walked into this shitty dive bar she shone out like a beacon of light, drawing me forward with promises of a cold drink and a warm smile. I'd never wanted someone so much in my life, which right off the bat meant this girl was trouble. Her sweetness was at odds with the fire raging under her skin, like her smile was just honeyed bait and anyone who got too close might soon find their hides torn by her ragged teeth. I couldn't help thinking that I wouldn't mind that so much, actually.

I watched her tight little ass sashay over to the table at the far side of the room that I soon noticed was composed of real meathead looking dudes who'd been pissing me off since the second I stepped in. I didn't like loudmouths. They were only ever loud for some reason, and it was never because they had anything to say. The inadequacies of strangers didn't make a great bar soundtrack, but I soon was able to forget them after spending a single second in the company of the effervescent Melissa.

Her short, dark curls bobbed as she spoke to the men at the table, one of whom in particular was glaring at her sourly. He rose, and they started heading outside. I nearly gave in to the desire to follow them, but it really wasn't my place. I'd already overstepped by asking her about the eye. I couldn't help it. I didn't even know the girl and I already wanted to smash the teeth in of whoever did that to her. I imagined someone giving a black eye like that to my sister and saw red.

When the door closed behind Melissa, I turned back to my drink and took a sip. I'd downed nearly the whole beer, and it was starting to ease the full-body ache I was experiencing, though the sharp pain in my ribs refused to abate.

"You're that fighter guy, aren't you?" the guy beside me asked.

I looked over to see he had his whole body turned toward me, one hand resting on his paint-stained jeans. He was an older fella, probably in his late fifties or early sixties, though he still had a full head of grizzled salt and pepper hair sticking out at every angle on his head. His face was a peachy pink that told me he'd already had a few tonight, and I wondered if I was going to end up having to tell another nosy drunk to fuck off.

"I saw you scrap over in Rutina a few months ago," he continued when I still didn't answer. "You were incredible. Your hands were so quick I knew the second you started that the other guy didn't have a chance."

"Thanks."

I turned back to face the wall behind the bar, disinterested in playing out the rest of the conversation. People occasionally recognized me and wanted to talk about my fights, but they soon learned that wasn't a topic of conversation I was open to.

I fought because I needed to and I was good at it, not because I enjoyed it. Sure, I enjoyed letting out the tightness in my muscles, drawing on every last drop of anger and rage that swam in my veins and putting it into a punch, but I took shame in that enjoyment. It wouldn't matter if I was fighting the biggest asshole in the world, I would still be overly conscious of the fact that my mom would have disapproved and that was enough to make me want to forget it entirely.

"You here looking for a fight?" the guy pressed.

Jeez, couldn't he take a hint?

I scowled into my drink and upended it, draining the last few mouthfuls, then cleared my throat. "No."

"Probably for the best," he said. "You look like you've had all you can handle tonight."

I was getting really tired of people commenting on the fact that I'd obviously had the shit kicked out of me. My shoulders tightened and I shot a glare in the nosy guy's direction.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, no. I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean no offense. I guess I'm a little star struck is all." He chuckled at his joke, but his face fell when he saw I wasn't chuckling too. "Hey, when Melissa gets back I'll buy you your next beer," he said. "I didn't mean to step on your toes and I can tell I have."

He was clearly a nice guy and I felt bad for making him so antsy. I sighed and faced him again, forcing my lips up in the corners in a way I hoped would come across as friendly.

"It's no problem," I said. "I've just had a long night. As you and everyone else here can plainly see."

"Name's Neil Buckins," he said, extending a hand toward me.

"Jack Paxton."

We shook hands and Neil took a swig of beer, some of it dribbling into his wiry beard.

"I heard you talking to Melissa. You're from Bell Springs?"

"Yup. Just passing through."

"You just go from town to town, looking for fights? How does that work?"

"No, it's not like that." I didn't really want to talk about fighting, but talking to Neil seemed like a good way to pass the time until Melissa got back. The longer she was gone, the more anxious I was to go out back and make sure she was okay. I decided I'd give it another couple of minutes and then I'd let myself give in to that compulsion.

"I get a call every few weeks or months from a guy who fixes fights for me. He gives me a time and a place, I go. Simple as that."

“So you’re only a part-time fighter,” Neil mused. “What do you do when you’re not out there cracking skulls? Or are you just making enough money that you don’t need to worry about it?”

I studied him, but could detect no sign of malice in his intent. He was just a chatty old man and I was the new, exciting exhibit at his local bar.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

He grinned, exposing a set of teeth that were whiter and straighter than I would have pegged him for. “I’m a curious kind of guy.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you then. I’m just an average construction worker most of the time. There’s not a lot of work back home, but I take it when it comes up.”

“Interesting.” Neil stroked his beard and shuffled closer on his stool. “And you say you’re just passing through?”

“Yup.”

“Any chance I could compel you to stay?”

I cocked a suspicious brow and leaned away from him. I still couldn’t figure out whether I liked the weirdo or not.

“Why would you want me to do that?”

“It’s nothing shady, I promise. I’m managing a new development they’re putting up on the outskirts of town. We need as many hands as we can get, and yours seem about as strong and capable as they come.”

I laughed, shaking my head in bemusement. “You don’t know anything about me except that I’m a good fighter.”

“That says a lot about a man though, don’t you think? You’re strong, dedicated, and persistent. That’s more than I can say for most of my guys.”

He clearly picked up my disinterest, and in one last flagging attempt he produced a business card from his wallet and slid it over in front of me on the bar.

“Just think about it,” he said. “There may not be much work in Bell Springs, but there’s lots here with this new contract. And it’s not so bad a place. Unless there’s something keeping you in Bell Springs of course.” He grinned slyly. “But from what I saw of how much you were checking out Melissa, I’d bet my hat that you’re an unattached man.”

He was awkward and a little strange, but I liked Neil. I liked his lack of inhibition and there was something very sincere about him. That didn’t mean I would stay in Cannon and work for him, but it was enough for me to take his card.

Briefly, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like if I did stay in Cannon. Maybe I could get to know the Alibi’s beautiful bartender a little more. Would it be so bad to be away from home? It wasn’t like I had anything there other than a run down house and a load of childhood memories. The memories were probably to blame for me staying there so long. Bell Sprins and Sadie were the only things I had left to connect me to my mom, and since Sadie was away at college I didn’t have much of her either.

If I was going to leave Bell Springs though, I needed more of a reason than just a possible job offer from some half-cut hick I met at a dive bar after getting the shit kicked out of me a town over. I didn’t tend to waste too much time planning things, but I took a little more care than that.

“Thanks, Neil,” I said, tucking the card into my back pocket.

I was about to say something else to him, something casual to move the conversation away from me, but a movement at the side of the room caught my eye. Melissa and the guy she went outside with were coming back inside, and from their expressions I could tell the conversation hadn’t gone well.

Melissa was walking straight for the bar, jaw set tight, the guy trailing behind her looking like he was about to murder someone. He grabbed her arm and wrenched her to a stop. My hand tightened into a fist and I sat up straighter, ready to dive into the fray.

“Thought you weren’t looking for a fight?” asked Neil with a smile as wide and toothy as a crocodile’s.

I ignored him, too focused on Melissa. She whirled on the guy and snapped something at him, then gestured toward the back hallway. He yanked her closer and then shoved her back toward the hallway, following as she stumbled down it.

“I’m not,” I said.

I wished I hadn’t drank the rest of my beer already. I could have used some cold refreshment to brace me for whatever situation I was about to get myself into. I rose to my feet.

Neil raised a quizzical brow as I rose to my feet. “That’s not what it looks like.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not looking for a fight, but it sure as hell looks like that guy is.”