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“Luke, come on,” Mom called, and he had no choice but to join the fray. A pretty terrible rendition ofHappy Birthdaystarted up, led by his father, and Luke chuckled through the last half.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thanks, everyone.” He stepped over to the three-tiered cake Mom had likely ordered from the bakery and blew out the candles with one big lungful of air. Everyone cheered, and then Uncle Tucker raised both hands to quiet everyone down.
“Miranda’s gonna tell us what we have.”
His wife detailed the food, and Luke thought it was just a way to rile up the lions before turning them loose on fresh meat. By the time she finished, he’d tuned out her girlish voice to the point that he didn’t even know she’d said everyone could come eat. The only way he knew was the surging forward of Uncle Tucker’s twins.
The grown men pushed their kids back, claiming they should let the adults go first, and good-natured arguments and ribbing broke out. Luke found the whole affair nearly insufferable, and he wasn’t even sure why.
Last year, he’d gone to dinner with his parents for his birthday, and he much preferred that.
“Cake?” Hannah asked, lifting a small dessert plate toward him.
He looked at her as she put a forkful in her mouth. A bit of chocolate clung to her bottom lip, and he wanted to take care of that for her. She got the crumb as she smiled. “I just figured we’d want to stay out of that fray, and I’m starving.”
He took the plate of cake and held it for her while she took another bite onto her fork. He sure did like this woman, and Luke understood that feeling as it deepened and grew, getting dangerously close to love.
He cleared his throat and reached for his own fork. “Guess I better get a bite before you eat the whole thing.”
“You better,” she teased. They polished off the cake in no time, and Luke took her fork and threw everything in the trashcan that had been placed out of the way near the corner of the house. He looked up and saw a car parked at the curb.
His heart seized, and Luke blinked, trying to make out the driver. The dark sedan had tinted windows in the back, but the front ones were clear. He simply couldn’t see well enough to identify the person behind the wheel.
They were clearly watching him, though, and Luke glanced to the party behind him. When he looked back at the car, a man finished getting out of it, closed the door, and leaned against the driver’s door.
It was Tick Stein.
Luke’s muscles seized, then started to vibrate violently. His fingers automatically curled into fists, and Luke took a breath to puff out his chest.
“Who’s that,” Hannah asked, coming up behind him and pressing into his back as she took his left hand in both of hers and worked his fingers out of the tight fist.
“Atticus Stein,” Luke said, his mouth barely moving. “He was my trainer here in Beeville, back when I was boxing.”
“He doesn’t look like he’s got a birthday present,” Hannah said.
No, he didn’t. But he’d shown up for a reason. Luke didn’t think it was because his family had been too loud, as this neighborhood was far above the likes of Tick. “I’m going to go talk to him,” Luke said.
“Luke,” Hannah said, her voice full of fear. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, twisting to look at her. “I’m just going to tell him to leave.”
“Be careful,” she said, releasing his hand. Luke started toward Tick, coaching himself to release the tension in his shoulders. Then his biceps. His forearms. His fingers.
The fists had fled by the time he was close enough to talk to Tick without calling too loudly. “What are you doing here?”
“Heard you were in town,” Tick said. “Wanted to see for myself.”
Luke had been in Beeville a couple of times since he’d been released. Tick had never sought him out before. “We’re having a family birthday party,” he said. “You really don’t need to be here, and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”
Tick laughed, his face tipped up toward the sky. He looked utterly relaxed against the car, his arms folded and one ankle crossed over the other. He’d parked in the shade of a tree, which cast his blue shirt in even darker shades of the same color. He wore jeans and sneakers, and he seemed so normal.
Luke knew better. He’d been young when boxing, and he’d let Tick manage his career. If he didn’t know about something, he couldn’t take the heat, but somehow, it had still been him who’d ended up in jail.
Tick had first brought him steroids and said everyone was using them. If Luke wanted to win, he’d need to take them too.
Tick had arranged fights under the radar that allowed Luke to fight more often than the rules allowed.
Tick had managed Luke’s winnings, and he’d have lost all that money when he went to prison if not for his father’s intervention. Tick couldn’t be happy about that, but Luke should’ve never allowed his manager to put his name on the bank account.
