We Begin at the End(60)

He wore a sunhat, took it off and fanned himself with it as they moved beneath the shade of a maple tree. “That kid, Tyler. His brother is here and he’s looking for you.”

“You thought that was urgent?”

“You don’t understand. He’s big. I think you should head home.”

“Where is he?”

Thomas Noble swallowed.

“Don’t be a pussy all your life, Thomas Noble. Take me to the big boy so I can hand his ass to him.”

He led her, shaking his head, wiping sweat with a trembling hand. Word spread, kids clustered in the alleyway behind Cherry’s Bakery.

“That’s him.”

Duchess glanced at the kid, Tyler, the boy that had pushed Robin over. And then she looked to the kid beside him, taller, fatter, uglier. He wore shorts that stopped at his calves, pale legs like trunks, Converse worn and faded. Dark hair, bowl-cut, a little acne on each cheek.

Tyler pointed her way and the bigger kid came toward her.

“Who the fuck are you?” Duchess said, fixing the bow in her hair.

“Gaylon.”

“Shit. I guess you had to grow up tough.”

“You messed with my family.” He stepped forward.

She rolled her eyes.

“You threatened to hurt my brother.”

“Actually I threatened to behead that motherfucker.”

A dozen kids now, blood in the water.

“You apologize to him.”

“Shut the fuck up, fat boy.”

Collective gasps as kids backed up a little, Thomas Noble no longer beside her.

Gaylon took another step, clenched a fat fist.

And then she heard it. Part war cry, part girlish scream. The crowd parted for Thomas Noble as he sprinted through. He’d loosened his shirt and, for reasons Duchess did not dare comprehend, tucked his pant legs into his socks.

Thomas Noble moved fast, boxed shadows and switched feet, circling Gaylon as he bobbed his head back and forth.

Duchess brought a hand to her face and watched through her fingers as Gaylon laid him out with a single punch.

And then the back door opened. Cherry taking out a trash bag. The crowd moved fast, Tyler and his brother disappeared.

Duchess walked over and assessed the damage.

“Did I win?” Thomas Noble said, as she helped him to his feet.

“It’s the taking part that counts.”

He touched his eye gingerly. “I’ll have a black eye.”

“It’s already black,” she reasoned.

“Maybe a blue eye then.”

“Come on, I’ll get you some ice.” She took his good hand in hers. Despite the pain, he managed a wide smile.

“That was brave, right?”

“More stupid than brave.”

It was as she turned onto Main she saw it.

Black Escalade.

Her blood drained.

Darke had found them.

She let go of his hand and moved along trucks. Bumper stickers, SWAN MOUNTAIN and MONTANA ELK, DISTRICT NINE. She thought of Darke, trying to blend between, his soulless eyes giving him away.

Duchess saw Hal’s truck, the windows rolled down. She popped the door and slipped into the passenger seat. Thomas Noble looked on as she opened the glove compartment and slid the Smith & Wesson from its place inside.

She tucked the gun into her jeans.

Thomas Noble, the fight left him before it even arrived.

They moved back to the sidewalk. The sun cast a hand over the street, lighting the kids and their parents, smiles of the unknowing. They walked up, outside Cherry’s, past the barbershop. They hugged storefronts, Duchess scanning, hand on her belt.

The gun, no longer cold but burning hot, waiting on her.

Across the street was the Escalade. She imagined Darke inside, watching her in that way he did.

She stepped into the road, fear keeping pace but she forced it down behind a smile. She’d let Darke see it, she was glad he came because she wanted it done now. She would kill for Robin, she didn’t even need asking.

“What are you doing?” Thomas Noble tugged her arm but she shook him off, turned and glared.

“Stay there.”

“You can’t just go up to him.”

Thomas Noble looked like he could cry, like he wanted to turn and bolt but the emerging man inside was jostling for place with the frightened kid.

She circled to the back of the Escalade.

The sidewalk now, beside the car, she trailed a hand along the paint, the shine deep enough to mirror her.

“Duchess, please,” he called, but she didn’t turn.

She slipped the gun from her jeans, kept it between herself and the car as she reached for the handle and pulled hard.

It was locked.

She pressed her face close to the glass and saw it empty.

She spun around. The parade rolled on, drums, ribbons. Kids marched in the band while girls twirled and beamed.

Duchess pushed her way through a group and heard kids curse her. Thomas Noble stayed beside. She saw Darke in everyone, warm smiles and cold eyes. She knew what men could do, all of them, capability was enough.

She was about to turn, and then she saw him.

She ran now, flat out. She knocked Coke from a kid’s hand, sent an old lady sprawling as people yelled. When she reached him he turned, and he looked up and smiled.