Page 30 of Callahan

“Not so tough now, huh?” I taunted. I should have gone in with a roundhouse to his face, but I was worried with my boots on, I might do some serious damage.

Not that the prick didn’t deserve it. But I’d seen enough movies. A stranger in a small town killing a local, justified or not, never ended well for the stranger.

A few people either waiting for the bakery to open or on their way to the diner had stopped to watch. One person was on their phone, I hoped with 911. Another appeared to be filming the incident.

The masked dude tried to land another punch, but I delivered a right hook, then pulled his shirt over his head and incapacitated him with it.

The sound of a police siren wailed in the distance, and the guy slipped out of his shirt and took off running, leaving me holding his grey hoodie.

My nose was still gushing blood from the second blow he’d landed. I could taste it in my mouth and knew it had to be smeared all over my face, so I used the asshole’s shirt to wipe my cheeks and mouth.

It smelled like Irish Spring, the soap my dad used.

I was certain the majority of the droplets on the ground were from me, although I knew that asshole had to be bleeding from my last punch. There probably wouldn’t be a blood trail though since his ski mask more than likely soaked it up.

An old man in overalls, plaid shirt, and John Deere trucker’s hat approached and asked, “Are you okay, son? The police are on the way. Do you need an ambulance?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

The adrenalin might have worn off because I staggered a bit. He grabbed my arm and proclaimed, “Whoa! Why don’t you sit down before you fall down,” as he gently guided my ass to the dirt.

“Thanks.”

Two police cars roared up, lights flashing but the sirens were now off.

One cop got out, his hand on his gun on his duty belt as he approached. The other I recognized right away.

I tried to be flippant and lifted my chin toward Brian, even though blood was still streaming from my nose.

“Hey, dude.”

“What the hell happened to you?”

“I got jumped by a masked man in the alley.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he hit me in the head with a baseball bat,” I lifted my hand to the back of my head and realized my hair was soaked. I was still bleeding from there, too. “Then punched me in the nose before I fought back.”

Brian turned his head toward his shoulder as he clicked his mic. “Sierra Four, start meds to Beaumont’s Bakery on Main. I have a thirty-year old male bleeding from the head.”

The dispatcher responded that paramedics were en route.

“I’m twenty-nine,” I grumbled.

“Eh, close enough.”

“I don’t need an ambulance.”

“I’m gonna overrule you on that one, Tough Guy.”

I heard Lainey’s voice from behind me. “Adam?” Then felt her hand on my shoulder as she knelt beside me and looked at my face. “Oh my God, are you okay? Did you fall down the stairs.”

I grimaced, and Brian grumbled, “Something like that.”

“What happened?” she demanded.

“Someone jumped me when I came around the corner.”

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