Page 162 of Past the Broken Bridges

Two of them turn to see who’s talking, looking uninterested when they see me. The other three surrounding their prey stand taller, the wild-eyed one in the middle giving me a curious once-over as I stop a few feet from them.

“Leave him alone,” I say again, looking at the shaken boy behind them. “Are you okay?”

He’s silent, eyes darting to one of the guys still hovering over him. I don’t believe him at all when he stammers, “Y-Yes.”

The boy with wild eyes walks over to me, shooting me a slimy smile. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him up close. “You’re brave.” His eyes go up to my hair. “And not only for that haircut. It’s…daring. Butting into people’s business though…” He whistles.

“Yo, Marco,” one of the guys behind him says. “What do you want us to do with this dude?”

Marco?

Marco.

The person standing in front of me shifts his focus behind him. “I expect my payment by the end of the week. You know what will happen if I don’t get it.”

Whoever the smaller boy is quickly nods, not hesitating to run the second he gets the advantage.

Payment.It this some sort of deal that I walked into?

“Damn, baby,” Marco whistles, giving me another once-over with raised brows. “I’d offer you something good, but it looks like you’re already on it. Haven’t seen somebody this skinny since my ex started shooting up heroin.”

I have no doubt this is the same Marco I’ve seen based onthe tattoos that peek out from the edge of his long-sleeved shirt—the same one Paxton has been willing to risk everything to get revenge on. My gut is telling me to walk away and pretend like I saw nothing. But I can’t. Because Paxton is right.

Somebody should stand up to him.

For Dawson.

“You got my friend killed,” I say.

His eyebrows go up, and his friends go silent behind him. “Come again, sweetheart?”

My shoulders go back, ignoring the pet name. “You killed Dawson.”

He looks over his shoulder at his friends with a slick grin before turning back and chuckling. “Were you sweet on Gable? I thought his type would be more…put together. His last girl was. Then again, I always had a sweet spot for brunettes.”

Dixie.

“Real shame about him,” he coos. “He still owes me, you know. He screwed me out of my legacy and then he screwed me out of a lot of cash.”

That’s all he has to say? Somebody is dead because of him and he’s worried about money? “Do you have any conscience at all?”

The smile remaining tells me he doesn’t. “When you’re in my position, you can’t afford to have a conscience.” His eyes rake over me for a second time, landing on my chest, which has flattened considerably over the past month. “Shame about you too. Bet you were hot once.”

I swallow at the words that feel like a knife to the heart. “Fuck you.”

His eyes spark. “You’re a spicy one, huh? I guess I couldlook past the body with a face like that. You willing to pay back your boyfriend’s debts on his behalf? I can think of some ideas on how to make things right.”

He’s disgusting. “If you think I would ever touch somebody as slimy as you, you’re mistaken. Dawson had his problems, but he was obviously ten times the man you will ever be.”

The guys behind him stand taller as Marco walks up to me and grabs my arm. His grip is painful, and I know it’ll be another bruise. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, I swallow the surprised yelp and try acting unfazed, even though my heart is beating so fast in my chest I’d be shocked if he didn’t hear it. “You better watch your fucking mouth, bitch.”

I was told once to be careful what I say.

That it could lead to trouble.

But I also said I didn’t care, if what I had to say was worth it.

And Dawson was my friend.

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