Risk (Gentry Boys #2) (13 page)

Creed crossed his arms.  “You’re
not
coming, dipshit.”

Chase was a chronic joker.  Anyone could see that.  But I thought his face fell a little when his brother growled at him. 

“Go get dressed,” I told Chase.  “We’ll let you know what the plan is.” 

“Ha!”  Chase clapped his hands together and pushed his finger in Creed’s face before darting down the hall. 

Creed was looking at me in disbelief. 

“I can’t help it,” I shrugged.  “Rejecting him would be like stepping on a puppy.” 

“That’s the problem,” Creed sighed.  “No one can refuse that guy anything.” 

“Does it really bother you if he comes along?”

“No.  You didn’t have to invite him.  It was nice.”

I hugged him around the waist. Creed seemed surprised but smiled and put his arm around me.  I pushed my face into his chest and inhaled the musky, clean scent of him.  He felt so goddamn good.  I wanted to stay there forever. 

Creed rubbed the back of my neck and let out a contented sigh.  “Hey?  You still want to hear me sing?”

I smiled into his shoulder.  “If you want to sing for me, I’ll listen.” 

“Tonight,” he said softly.  “I promise.” 

Chase was showered and ready within ten minutes. 

“So what did we decide?”

“Nothing yet.” 

Chase snapped his fingers.  “We should go see the fountain.” 

“Aw hell,” Creed groaned.  “Not another one of your nutty field trips.”

I was curious.   “What fountain, Chase?”

“The Fountain Hills fountain.  It used to be the tallest one in the world.  Guiness Book shit.  It shoots up over three hundred feet in the air, operates every hour on the hour and can be seen for miles around.” 

“Jesus,” grumbled Creed.  “Did you memorize the entire Wikipedia entry?”

“Yes and quit rolling your fucking eyes, Creedence.  Come on, it’s less than an hour away and it’ll be fun.” 

“I’d like to see it,” I said. 

“You know,” complained Creed.  “You’ve already got Saylor wrapped around your little finger and now you’re trying to get in good with my girl too.” 

My girl.

Is that what I was?  I looked at Creed but he was busy being irritated with his brother.  It might have been nothing.  An expression, a slip of the tongue. 

Creed nudged me on the way out the door.  “Okay if I drive?”

I nudged him back.  “I thought you
always
did the driving.”

“Are we being secretly vulgar?” asked Chase as he climbed into the backseat.  “Don’t hold back on my account.” 

Chase was something of a chatterbox.  On the drive to Fountain Hills he told a lot of jokes, most of which were in poor taste. Several times Creed twisted around and yelled at him to shut the fuck up.  I enjoyed watching them together.  I also wondered how much louder and more boisterous things became when Cord, their missing link, was added to the mix. 

“What’s wrong?” Creed asked me when I’d been quiet for a while. 

“Nothing.”  I tried to smile.  I took his hand and Chase made obnoxious kissing sounds from the backseat.  Seeing the boys together had made me think about my sisters, about the easy camaraderie I’d once taken for granted.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Chase?” I asked as a way to change the subject. 

“No,” he laughed.  “You want to make a recommendation?”

“There’s the park,” pointed Creed, “so where the hell is this epic fountain?”

“You don’t listen, Creedence.  That’s one of your many shortcomings.  I told you it operates every hour on the hour.  It’s half past the hour right now.”

Creed seemed irritated.  “So we’ve got to sit here for a half hour and wait for the fountain to show up?”

“Indeed.  Now park the car and quit your pissing and moaning.” 

It was hot out but we found a bench with a fair amount of shade.  A gigantic concrete disk sat in the middle of a small man made lake. 

“How many more minutes?”  I asked. 

Chase checked his phone.  “Twenty seven.”  He seemed fretful.  As the minutes ticked past he grew quiet.  He kept shifting positions and looking over his shoulder.  Then he ran a hand through his dark blonde hair and I saw he was sweating profusely.  “I need some water.” 

Creed looked at him oddly.  “There’s got to be a store nearby.  Come on, we can get there and back before your fountain magic begins.” 

Chase was already standing.  “I’m just gonna run to that gas station on the corner.”  

“Chase.”

“I’ll be right back!” 

Creed and I stared after him as he jogged away. 

“Shit,” Creed swore softly. 

He was obviously upset.  Throughout the colorful years of my life I’d learned quite a few things that I’d rather not know about. One of those things was the distinct ravenous look of someone who needed a fix.  Just before he ran off, Chase had that look. 

Without saying a word I took Creed’s arm.  I kissed the top of his shoulder and rested my head against him. For a while we just stayed like that, listening to one another breathe. 

“Truly,” he whispered, touching my face.  It seemed he was getting ready to say more but a flicker of movement made us both turn our heads towards the lake. 

The fountain started small and then gradually built up to its full three hundred foot height.  As the geyser reached for the sky I felt a shadow cross behind us.  I leaned my head back and Chase grinned down. 

“Miss me?”

He jumped over the back of the bench and landed at my side.  The three of us sat there in silence and watched the fountain reach its peak before beginning to recede. 

Creed jerked when his phone rang.  He withdrew it from his pocket and I saw a look on his face that I had not yet seen. It was pure dread.  He looked straight at Chase, nodded slightly, and then jumped up from the bench.  He walked away quickly as he brought the phone to his ear. 

“What was that?” I muttered. 

Chase was looking at the dying fountain.  His mouth was set in a grim line.  I didn’t think he was going to answer me. 

“He had to take that call,” he finally mumbled, almost as if he was talking to himself. 

“Everything okay?” I asked Creed when he returned a few moments later.  I could tell from the look on his face that everything was definitely
not
okay.  I wondered if it had something to do with another girl.  It would explain why he’d felt like he couldn’t talk in front of me. 

Creed squinted out at the lake.  “It’s over,” he said, nodding to the sputtering fountain.  “We should go.” 

We stopped for lunch at a local burger joint but the mood seemed strained.  Chase and Creed kept shooting tense looks at one another.  I got the feeling they would have a lot to say if I wasn’t there. 

Chase jumped out of my car even before Creed had stopped it completely.  He came around and tapped on my window.  I rolled it down and leaned out. 

“Thanks for inviting me, Truly.”  He tried valiantly to grin but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.  He shot another glance at Creed and then walked slowly to their apartment door. 

Creed turned off the ignition.  “I’ve got some shit to take care of right now.” 

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out.” 

He threw me a hard look.  “It’s not another girl or any such bullshit.  So don’t go thinking that.” 

“All right, Creed.  I won’t.” 

He leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips.  The he gently lifted my chin.  “Good night, Truly Lee.” 

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.” 

He flashed a quick smile.  “Always got to have the last word, don’t you?”

I proved him wrong.  I didn’t say anything else as he exited my car and walked slowly to his door, his hands jammed in his pockets. 

I did touch my fingers to my lips and blow him a kiss but his back was turned.  He didn’t see me.

CREED

Chase was standing in the front hallway, waiting. 

“What is it?” he demanded. 

“I’m gonna go watch a fight tonight.”

He relaxed a little.  “Watch?  So it’s not
your
fight?”

“Nope.  This ain’t my fight.”  I started to move past him. 

“Wait.” Chase tensed.  “Whose fight is it then?  And what the hell is Hernandez about by wanting you to see it?”

I sighed.  There was no point in dancing around this.  “One of the guys, the one who is expected to win, is some kind of rising star.  He’s the dipshit I’ll likely end up meeting in the ring soon.”

“Fuck,” Chase swore.  The he pulled back and punched the wall. 

I looked at the hole he had made.  “Did that hurt?”

Chase flexed his hand and grimaced.  “No.” 

“You should ice it.”  I couldn’t deal with him right now.  This rare tantrum of his wasn’t going to be helped by anything I said.  I also couldn’t handle whatever he’d gone to do or swallow out there in the park.

“We’ll go with you,” he said defiantly but I shook my head. 

Chase tried to flex his hand again and winced.  “We always go to fights together.” 

“This is different.  I’m not even the one doing the fucking fighting tonight.” 

“Look, let’s call Cord and –“

“I don’t want you there, Chase.  Neither of you.” 

He sagged against the damaged wall.  As I looked at my brother standing there red-faced and hurt it seemed like he was ten years old again.  It seemed like we both were.

I’m sorry, Chasyn. 

He pushed me hard on his way out the door.  He paused in front of me for a second like he expected me to react.  When I didn’t he just shook his head and left.

Cord and Saylor were gone.  The apartment was empty.  I went to my room and collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling.  I wished Truly was there with me.  I wished I had my mouth on her tits and my dick in her body.  I could go to her.  I knew she’d be glad.  She’d let me use her however I needed to and then I could sleep on her shoulder for a while. 

But shit was already starting to spill out of me that I hadn’t meant to say out loud.  How could I pull her into this?  I thought of the look in her dark eyes as she wondered if she could trust me, silently begging me not to be an asshole.  I couldn’t stand the thought of being the rotten risk she was so afraid of, something causing her pain in the end. 

I couldn’t think of Truly without remembering the feel of her body.  It made me hard as steel every damn time.  I pulled my dick out and did something about it, jerking off as furiously as I could.  I pretended my hand was her mouth as I went fast.  And then with a groan I came all over the goddamn place. 

Time passed.  Chase didn’t come home.  Cord did. 

“I need the truck,” I shouted to him as he walked past my room. 

He poked his head inside.  “What the hell are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

“Meditating.  Just wanted you to know I was taking it.” 

Cord looked around.  “Where’s Chase?”

“I have no fucking idea.” 

He frowned.  “What the hell crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing, man.”  I brushed him aside on my way out.  “I’ll see you later.” 

“Where are you going?”

“For a drive.” 

I closed the apartment door behind me before he could say anything else. 

There were still hours left before the fight.  It was going to be downtown, by the baseball stadium.  I drove around the valley in aimless circles to kill time. 

Rush hour traffic began to lighten as darkness thickened.  I navigated the one-way streets of downtown Phoenix and felt very tired.  I thought about the men who were on their way to watch the fight.  What kind of sick fucks bet on the blood of others?  I’d already seen too much blood in my life and some of it had been mine.  The only memory of blood that made me happy was when I’d smashed Benton Gentry’s face after he went after my mother for the millionth time.  It had happened about six months before high school graduation.  Benton’s nose was broken and he stayed quiet around us after that.  My mother never gave a hint that she was thankful.  She didn’t even seem to care when we left. 

I was passing right by the baseball stadium.  There was a game going on and the roar of the crowd reached me.  I thought about all those thousands of people eating nachos and staring down at the field.  They were lucky.  They were just watching a game. 

I didn’t head over to the place until I needed to.  It was an office building but anyone with legitimate business had already left.  I eased slowly into the neighboring garage where Gabe had told me to park.  The guard at the gate leaned next to my window and eyed me suspiciously.  I muttered the password Gabe had told me to use. 

“Achilles.” 

The guard nodded and waved me in.  As I walked into the building I felt isolated, naked.  I needed Cord and Chase.   Even though I wanted to spare them whatever shit I could, it seemed wrong to be here without them. 

Another guard stood in the gleaming marble lobby.  He kept a hand on his weapon as I approached. 

“Achilles,” I told him. 

“Top floor,” he answered in a deep smoker’s voice.  “Then take the first stairwell on the left to the roof.” 

I rode the elevator alone.  There was music playing, an instrumental version of a Bruce Springsteen song.  I stared straight ahead and wondered if I was being watched somehow. 

The top floor looked empty.  Lighting was minimal as I walked down a long corridor to where another guard waited by a closed door.  

“Achilles,” I said. 

“Of course,” he smiled.  He had brown teeth.  “Or you wouldn’t have made it this fucking far.” 

He opened the door and waved me through with a flourish.  My footsteps echoed in the dim stairwell as I climbed to the next door.  As soon as I pushed it open everything changed. 

The rooftop was the scene of a party.  Every corner had potted palms strung with festive lights.  There were a few dozen guests laughing and mingling as they removed wine glasses from trays held by silent waiters.  The men were a diverse collection of ages.  They all reeked of entitlement.  The women, all young and perfectly packaged, milled around as part of the scenery.  I wondered how much money was on the line tonight.  It had to be a sum worth more than a man could make in a lifetime at an honest living. 

My attention was caught by a knot of men standing in a far corner, beyond the clearing which was being prepared to host a brawl.   These men all had shaved heads and looked nasty as fuck.  I saw swastikas tattooed on at least two arms.  One of them noticed me.  He poked his buddies and they all turned to stare. 

There was another man who I hadn’t seen at first because he’d been sitting.  He stood up then.  His shirt was off and I could plainly see the hate symbols inked into his skin.  He was a big bastard, but then so was I.  That wasn’t what got to me.   I stared at the shit decorating his chest.  A man who wore such evil in plain sight wasn’t afraid of consequences.  Hate and fearlessness, what a fucking lethal combination.  He grinned at me. 

Feeling increasingly wary, I fell back into the shadows and watched the shiny people from a distance.  I saw Gabe with his arm around a leggy brunette.  He had a wine glass in his hand and was laughing uproariously at something being relayed by a white-haired man in a suit. 

“Bullshit, eh?”

The voice scared the crap out of me but I stood still.  I felt the heat of another person very close by and then he stepped out of the darkness enough for me to see his face.  He was likely in his mid thirties with a solid build and leathery pockmarked skin.  There was a glint of humor in his eyes though.   

“Fuckin’ fakes out there,” he said, looking me over thoughtfully.   “I know you.” 

I didn’t retreat.  I met his gaze and nodded.  “You do, in a way.” 

He chuckled softly.  “We fought once.  You were good.” 

“No,” I shook my head. “It was my brother Cord you fought, Emilio.” 

He stared at me in silence.  I raised my eyebrows. 

“That
is
your name, right?”

“For now,” he answered.  His gaze traveled over to the men I’d seen.  I realized one of them, likely the big shit who’d stood up, was going to be fighting tonight. 

“Gentry,” Emilio said, nodding as if he’d just remembered.  “That’s who you are.” 

I swallowed.  “This is your fight, isn’t it?”

“Hell yeah.  Big payout.  My kids need shoes.” 

I looked around.  “I remember you having quite the entourage last time.” 

Emilio’s eyes narrowed as he looked to over to where the shaved men were milling like hungry dogs.  “This ain’t the place for a crew like mine.”

“Gabe set you up with this?”

Emilio smiled.  “Gabe who?” 

“Right.”  I gestured to the ring.  “So what do you know about this guy?”

Emilio’s smile vanished.  “Name’s Jester and he’s out of Kingman.”  He made a sign of disgust.  “A real angel.  He takes ahold of your pretty head,
amigo
, and that shit’s comin’ clean off.”

I mulled this over as Emilio lit a cigarette, his voice low.  “Mother fucker.  He gets you on one knee and you ain’t gonna stand again.  Not in an hour, not in a week, never.”  He sighed and took a big drag from his cigarette before exhaling into the night.  Then he smiled again, showing the gold caps on his teeth.  “But don’t get your pants wet, Gentry.  I’ll take care of this.  Then next week it’ll be us in there.”  He pushed a finger into my chest.  “You and me.” 

There was no time to respond because the announcer, a baby-faced old man with a booming voice, started ringing a bell.  In the middle of the rooftop party was a large roped off clearing.  He stood in the middle of it.  Everyone turned to him excitedly.  I looked at the gilded surroundings and at these polished dipshits standing around.  I wanted to dropkick every single last glassy-eyed one of them. 

Emilio was already gone.  He’d slipped away at the sound of the bell. 

The announcer beamed at the waiting crowd.  This place certainly had a different vibe than the street matches I was used to.  A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. 

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for coming out on this fine evening.  Please note that as of this time all betting is closed.”  He motioned to the outskirts of the ring. “A match for the ages!  In one corner we have Emilio, hardened by the bowels of the barrio.  In the other corner we have Jester, who is looking to maintain his undefeated status.  In the end, only one will be standing.  The fighting begins at the next bell.”  He smiled and looked at the fighters.  “And gentlemen, rules don’t live in this house.” 

The announcer retreated.  Emilio and Jester took the ring and seconds later the bell went off.  Emilio shuffled, circled.  Jester stood still, watching with coldblooded calculation.  Emilio took a jab and Jester evaded without taking a step.  Some Tiki torches had been lit to give the scene an oddly tribal feel.  A few of the spectators sipped their damn wine as they stared.  I saw Gabe’s hand squeezing the ass of the girl who’d been glued to him.  He saw me watching and grinned before returning his attention to the ring. 

Emilio was sweating.  I could see it clearly.  I stared at him and thought the same thing I’d thought the night Cord took him down.  He was a strong man.  But his strongest days were behind him.  He was soft in a few places and he wasn’t as quick as he should be.  If he didn’t find a way to get his opponent down quickly, then it was all over. 

Jester was content to watch, forcing Emilio to make the next move.  When he did, Jester got him in the jaw.  I heard the impact but understood it was a soft hit.  It was meant to rattle the other guy a little and start the show.  I remembered what Gabe said about getting the crowd interested.  I could see a few of them licking their lips and shifting with excitement as Jester got two more blows in. 

Emilio was tired of being toyed with.  He spun and landed a hard hit into Jester’s chest.  It should have knocked him over.  It would have knocked almost any other man over.  But that Jester dickhead remained standing, staggering only slightly.  His eyes narrowed.  He was only willing to play along until something pissed him off.  He was now angry.  He let fly with a kick to Emilio’s face.  Emilio tried to block him but it wasn’t enough.  The blow crushed his nose.  There were a few female gasps as blood spurted.  I expected there would be some whoops from Jester’s corner but apparently that wasn’t their style.  The firelight shone on their bald heads and they watched with the predatory look of a pack awaiting their alpha’s victory. 

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.