Page 85 of Deadwood
Two of the guards who’d been with Hanklie in line, a man and a woman, stepped forward like they were going to intervene, but Hanklie held up a hand, stopping them.
“I said your precious way home is gone, and you’re stuck here,” Hanklie answered with a wicked grin.
His cockiness was going to cost him, if the reddening of Paxon’s face gave any indication. I couldn’t let him make a scene by hurting one of Deadwood’s own. What if we were kicked out? Forced to survive in the elements, now with no way back to Amosite? After Paxon’s threat, I didn’t want to temporarily stay in Torbernite. It’d only give him the upper hand.
I quickly stood from the bench, flinging my leg over before hurrying to the scene.
“You have five seconds to tell me what the fuck that means,” Paxon seethed.
Hanklie let out a chuckle, despite the awkward position he was in. “I don’t answer to you, filthy scum.”
Then Paxon started counting, and I picked up the pace. I weaved between benches and chairs, people standing about with trays of food, all watching as Paxon ruined our chances of surviving out here and put a target on all our backs.
“Five,” Paxon said, gripping Hanklie’s shirt tighter, who only rolled his eyes in response. “Four.”
“You royal shits are always so fucking dramatic,” Hanklie spit, his slight accent hanging on thick to every word.
“Three.”
I elbowed past two people, careful not to dump the plates in their hands.
“Two.”
I had ten feet to go. Nine. Eight.
“One.”
Paxon reared his arm back, and I jumped for him just in time to hook my hands around his elbow and hold it back. But he didn’t bother to look at who grabbed him as he shoved me away, and I easily lost my grip. My foot slipped, and I stumbled to the left, right toward Lander. He dropped his plate to grab my arm, the ceramic landing on the floor in a crash, but in doing so, I slipped on the eggs and careened forward, landing right on my knees in the mess of berries, pastries, and other assortments of food.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the burst of pain in my knees, Lander’s hand still gripped tight on my elbow. I partly braced myself for the sound of Paxon’s fist landing true on Hanklie, but surprisingly, no such sound came. Instead, a familiar voice intervened.
“Hit one of us, and I’ll throw you to the fucking wolves before you can so much as blink,” Raiden threatened, his voice full of lethal intent, like he’d take great pleasure in doing what he promised.
I opened my eyes to find Raiden’s hand dwarfing Paxon’s fist, having stopped the hit inches before he landed it. Siara stood beside Raiden, eyes peeled, arms crossed, and a hip popped out. But as soon as her gaze met mine, she softened, dropping her arms to her sides.
Fuck, I didn’t want their pity. I just didn’t want to get kicked out of the one place we had found refuge for the time being. We’d gotten so lucky ending up here, and Paxon was ruining that. Was that his intention, so we had no choice but to go to Torbernite?
Siara moved past Paxon, making it a point to bump him with her elbow as she did. She bent to grab my other arm, she and Lander helping me off the messy ground.
“This backwoods hick said the godsdamned bridge collapsed,” Paxon defended, like that gave him the right to punch a fucking guard.
Raiden shoved him back by his fist, causing Paxon to let go of Hanklie and stumble backwards two steps. Siara bent at the waist, doing her best to brush the food off my pants, as if two men weren’t about to rip out each other’s throats behind her.
“That’s because it did,” Raiden said. “And if you want to fight someone over the fear you feel in being stuck in our town”—he stepped toward Paxon, looking all the more intimidating—“you fight me.” He leaned in, muscled arms flexing. “Little secret, I don’t go easy on pathetic royals.”
Satisfied with her work, Siara straightened, standing at my side as we both watched Paxon try to contain his anger.
“We were to cross that bridge in a matter of days,” Paxon hissed.
“You think we dropped the bridge on purpose?” Raiden accused.
Paxon’s hand flexed at his side, like maybe he’d gotten the bright idea to punch the fucking commander of Deadwood’s army. “I don’t know what this town full of outlaws is doing, but I’m not sticking around to find out.”
Lander spoke up now, unable to take any more of this. I was getting to that point, too, if it weren’t for the humiliation building in my core. “The guards still need time to heal, Paxon. We’re not leaving.”
Paxon spun on his brother, not sparing me so much as a glance. “You don’t call the shots.”
“And you do?” Siara quipped.
