Page 24 of Outcast
“No,” Holden barked. “I’m okay.” He took one more deep, long breath and exhaled. “I’m okay,” he said in a calmer tone. “But I need a fucking beer.”
“I’ll buy,” I said.
He nodded. “All right, then, let’s go.”
The pool hall was tucked between a tattoo parlor and a strip club on the highway between the auto shop and Riverton’s downtown district. Beyond that, a community college sprawled out, cute little neighborhoods all around it. Riverton got its name from the river that ran along its west border, but rather than lovely scenic trees and trails, there was an industrial district with meat-packing plants and farm equipment manufacturers.
Because of the town’s design, there was very much aright sideandwrong sideof town, and we’d always been on the wrong side.
But so was the pool hall, so we fit right in as we went through the door. The place wasn’t empty, by any means, but it was a hole in the wall, so there were no crowds to jostle Holden. His shoulders were high, his body rigid, so I knew not all the effects of my fumble were gone.
“I’ll go buy a pitcher of beer,” I offered. “You care what kind?”
“Whatever’s cheap,” Holden said.
I nodded and slunk off. Axel was over at the bar, chatting up a short, curvy woman with green hair piled in a messy bun. She wore a low-cut tank top that showcased ample cleavage, tight jeans, and more tattoos than even Axel had managed. And given that he’d stripped off his shirt and his body was a fucking masterpiece of artwork, that was saying something.
“Holy shit, Ax, I thought I was addicted to ink,” I said. “This is something else.”
He didn’t look thrilled at the interruption, but the woman turned, eyes lighting up with recognition. “Gray? Holy shit. I didn’t know you were back!”
I took in her features, the brown eyes, the splash of freckles over her nose. “Angel, as in Angela Meadows? Wow. You’ve changed.”
Her smile turned a little flirty. “You’ve grown up pretty nice yourself.”
Axel rolled his eyes. “You can’t fuck my brother after fucking me. I’ll be scarred for life.”
Angel laughed. “If we go by that rule, poor Gray won’t have much of a dating pool, will he?”
“Not my problem,” Axel said with a smirk. “He can go find a hookup in some other town.”
The bartender, a hulking guy who looked more annoyed to have customers than grateful, came over. “What do you want?”
“Pitcher of whatever’s on special,” I said, reaching for my wallet.
He went to work without another word. I tossed a twenty on the bar.
Axel resumed talking ink with Angel, gesturing to a patch of empty skin over his ribs. Ouch. That would hurt like a bitch.
“You know, maybe a set of poker cards, with the hearts and spades?—”
“He’s staring at you again,” Angel interrupted.
I followed Angel’s gaze to the…sheriff’s deputy sitting at the far end of the bar. He nursed a beer, and sure enough, his brown eyes were fixed on Axel.
The look was intense.
He either wanted to fuck Ax or kill him—maybe both.
Axel just snorted. “He’s been riding my ass lately about this poker game I run. Says it’s illegal. But he can’t prove shit. All he has are rumors.”
“Ax, seriously?” I said. “Holden would befuckedif you went to prison over something so stupid.”
Axel’s expression hardened. “You mean like we were fucked when you ran away like a coward?”
“Wow, you two don’t pull your punches, huh?” Angel said. “I guess you reallyarebrothers.”
She left us with the tension of an ugly storm gathering between us.
