Page 34 of Smitty

And then, a glass shattered, and the entire room seemed to pause. I turned and found two guys standing chest to chest. The taller one had a busted beer bottle in his hand, and his chubby buddy was steadily giving him hell, pushing him to use it.

I charged over to him and ordered, “Drop it.”

He didn’t listen.

Instead, the tall guy took a jab at the guy. When he missed, the chubby one lunged forward, taking a swing at him. He missed him but managed to hit me square in the jaw. And just like that, people scattered, and the two other guys in the group crashed into a table. It was getting out of hand fast, so I moved.

I grabbed the guy with the bottle and started dragging him toward the door. “Time to go, asshole.”

He jerked free and grumbled, “Fuck you.”

“Wrong answer.”

I grabbed him again, and the motherfucker pushed me. It wasn’t hard. Hell, I barely moved, but something inside me snapped. Maybe it was Gus, or maybe it was Brooke and her little girl. Maybe it was all of it. Didn’t matter. I saw red.

The next thing I knew, my fist had connected with his jaw. He hit the floor, and he hit it hard. It should’ve ended there.

It didn’t.

I grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him back up, only to punch him again. And then again. Blood sprayed, and the room blurred. Someone grabbed my arm, and I threw them off and kept swinging.

I didn’t do this. I was one of those guys who always kept his cool. I never let a drunk asshole get under my skin, but tonight, I just lost it. I heard Goose calling my name, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I was too damn mad.

I kept seeing things that had nothing to do with the man I was plowing into. Brooke. The guy she was with. The kid’s blue eyes. The questions. The regret. Preacher. Maverick. Gus. Damn. It was too fucking much.

Everything came pouring out through my fists.

Next thing I knew, two sets of arms had wrapped around me, dragging me backward. The guy with the bottle was out cold and covered in blood. Goose’s voice cut through the haze, “What the fuck, man?”

I was breathing hard as I looked down at my bloody knuckles, and then I looked up to find Memphis and a couple of the girls looking at me like I had lost my damn mind. Maybe I had.

Memphis motioned to Goose as he grumbled, “Get him out of here.”

Goose nodded, then pulled me to my feet. He grabbed me by the bicep and led me out of the bar. I didn’t resist. I knew I’d fucked up.

We stepped outside, and the night air hit me like a cool blanket. Goose walked me around the side of the building, away from wandering eyes. He shoved me against the brick wall as he spat, “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“I lost my cool.”

“You can say that again,” he huffed out a bitter laugh. “We’ll be lucky if the guy doesn’t press charges.”

“He was a problem, and I dealt with it.”

“That’s not how we deal with problems around here, and you damn well know it.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, what the hell is going on?”

I didn’t answer. I just lowered my head and stared at the ground. I could feel Goose’s eyes on me, but he didn’t say a word. He just waited for me to talk. Eventually, I muttered, “I saw her tonight.”

He had no idea who I was talking about. I knew that. But he didn’t question me. He just gave me the space I needed to get out what I needed to say. “It’s been over two years… two years without so much as a phone call, and she shows up at the fair with a kid and a new guy. What the fuck is that?”

I shook my head and mumbled a few stray curses. A car drove by, and the front door opened and closed. But neither of us moved. I took a deep breath before telling him, “I loved her. God, I loved her. She meant everything to me, but I...”

I stared out across the parking lot, trying my best not to break down completely. Hell, that was the last thing I needed to do. Goose gave me a moment, then asked, “This girl still mean something to you?”

“I’d say no, but I’d be lying.”