Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(45)

Victory wasn’t long in coming. Emilio struggled to push the blood out of his eyes. Jester got him in the kidneys and the ribs. I’d noticed that Emilio favored his left leg slightly, that his knee was a little shaky. Jester must have seen it too because he went for the joint with a swift sweep that made Emilio bark in pain and go down.

“He gets you on one knee and you ain’t gonna stand again.”

Emilio was breathing hard, blood dripping on the concrete beneath him. He charged but Jester stepped aside and chopped a thick arm over his back, bringing Emilio’s belly to the ground. His leg was lying at a crooked angle and Jester stomped on the bent knee. An audible crack and a scream followed. A few in the crowd began to stir, looking around with discomfort. But they were outnumbered by those who were thirsting for the next cry of agony, the next drop of blood.

Any other fight would have been called by now. The announcer seemed ready to do just that. He stepped forward and licked his pink lips. But the man who’d been chatting with Gabe earlier held up a hand. My stomach turned. I had seen the look in Jester’s face. I recognized it. It was pleasure in cruelty. Emilio was coughing and spitting blood on the ground while clutching his crushed knee. He was virtually defenseless at this point. Yet the announcer hesitated to call the fight because his boss had made a sign. Jester saw an opportunity and took it. He kneeled down, whispered something in Emilio’s ear, causing the man to jerk with furious panic. Then he pulled his fist back and sent it crashing into the back of Emilio’s skull. I closed my eyes at the sound of the crack. Emilio’s head had been only inches from the concrete of the rooftop. A hard blow like that would smash every bone in his face on impact, possibly crush his skull.

When I opened my eyes again Jester was walking calmly back to his corner. There were a few horrified gasps followed by excited chatter as the crowd forgot the reality of the bleeding man at their feet.

The announcer stood over Emilio’s body. I stared but I wasn’t sure whether he was breathing. A few security guards emerged and began unfolding a stretcher. I didn’t want to see the mess that was about to be loaded onto it. As I walked quickly to the exit door I was relieved to hear a soft groan from Emilio. It sounded pitiful but it meant he was still alive.

I didn’t know what made me turn around before I opened the door to the stairwell. But I did turn around and saw Jester staring at me. He had a towel draped casually over his neck. He pointed a finger in my direction, the meaning clear.

You.

My chest burned as I hustled down the stairs and through the corridor. I wasn’t waiting for the elevator and took the stairs three at a time all the way to the ground floor. As I burst into the lobby the guard on duty stood up sharply but I blew right past him and out the door. I felt like I couldn’t breathe right again until I was in my truck and out on the freeway.

The whole thing was gruesome; the crowd, the money, the blood. It was a f*cking disgusting spectacle. It didn’t belong among civilized people.

I wanted a drink. I wanted ten of them. I wanted to kick something solid until it was dust. Instead I drove home.

The apartment was dark. I was surprised to realize it was only slightly later than ten because I felt as if the night had gone on forever. Cord must have walked over to the restaurant to greet Saylor as she ended her shift. I checked Chase’s room but it looked as if he hadn’t been home at all.

My guitar was in its usual spot in the living room. I picked it up, tuning the strings absently, remembering how I had promised Truly that I would sing for her soon. Waking up to her sweet voice this morning was like waking up to the music of angels. Then seeing her there in her kitchen – stunning, barefoot, with a song on her lips – was like the answer to every fantasy I never even f*cking knew I had.

I set the guitar down. The walls felt too close in here. I stepped onto the dark patio and sat down on the weight bench, listening to faint laughter and conversations of passersby.

I was glad now that Cord and Chase hadn’t seen what I saw tonight. They would have been as sick about it as I was, maybe more.

The sliding glass door was open a few inches so I could hear Saylor and Cord walk through the front door. They were arguing, which was unusual for them.

“-can’t hide from it all,” Saylor was saying.

“I’m not f*cking hiding from anything.”

“You wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say about Chase. You just got pissed off at me and turned your back.”

“Chase is fine.”

“Chase is NOT FINE!”

They were closer, in the kitchen. Cord’s tone was low and irritable. “You think after a few months you know my brothers better than I do? Let me tell you something honey, you’ll never know a tenth of what’s between them and me.”

“You want to know what I think? I think you’ve got your head up your ass right now. Creed’s about to risk his neck in some medieval blood brawl and Chase can’t go six hours away from whatever garbage he’s addicted to. Cord, they’re both in trouble, bad trouble.”

“Dammit Saylor, enough!” Cord’s voice was raw with emotion.

They were silent for a full minute. Then I heard the horrible noise of my brother sobbing with great big heartbreaking gasps.

“Cordero,” Saylor said in a soft voice and I pictured her taking him in her arms. I was glad she was there to do it.