Page 1 of Happenstance
Prologue
Parker
Pain.
The deep-seated agony tearing across someone’s nerves could make the strongest fucker bend. It didn’t take much. The right poke or prod, hell, even just the threat, had the power to make someone act completely out of character. What fascinated me was the sound that came with it. Not quite loud enough to give a sense of urgency, but enough to let others know something was wrong. It didn’t matter how big someone was, or how much experience they had.
They all made that sound.
A low drowning growl somewhere between a scream and a groan. The same muffled noise the prick I had on the ground was making now. The left side of his face was already starting to swell, and blood trickled from his nose. Pretty sure I broke it. Still, the prick wouldn’t give.
He threw his fists up in my ribs and grumbled, “Fuck you.”
At this point, I was driven more by adrenaline than anger and answered his strike with one of my own. He wasn’t a small guy–I definitely felt his hit–but mine was followed by a loud crunch. The split in my lip reopened as my mouth curled. He was making that sound again, only this time it was louder.
There was no mistaking the agony etched across his face. Broken bone hurt like a bitch. One quick snap sent more pain rushing through a human body than any burn or cut. I’d had my fair share of injuries–part of the job description of being a football player–and still nothing compared to that type of anguish.
The prick on the ground mumbled something incoherent and shifted under me. He was done. About fucking time.
Hurting someone like this probably should bother me. It would bother other people. Micha would say my brother and sister made me numb to it. Preston started torturing people before his preteen years, and Ava… I loved my sister, but she was all kinds of crazy. The truth was, this shit never really bothered me. Preston stabbed one of our nannies when we were kids, and all I could remember thinking was, ‘why is she screaming like that?’ Everyone knew my siblings were fucked up, I just hid it better.
My opponent looked up at me and muttered, “Pussy.”
I cocked my brow. Guess he had some fight left in him after all. If he wanted to go another round, I was game. I tipped my head down at him, smirked, and dropped my fist into his face. My knuckles grazed his teeth as his head twisted to the side. That seemed to shut him up. He coughed and spit out a mouthful of blood, but remained silent. I smiled and tapped his cheek.
Good boy.
If he didn’t come strolling in here with his friends, running their mouths, he could’ve avoided all of this. What the fuck did they think would happen? Probably thought they were big shots, coming from one of my mother’s rallies. She had a way of manipulating people, winding them up. I’d seen it a hundred times. A seemingly docile crowd turned violent with a few words from Lillianna Whitley. These fuckers obviously didn’t do their homework. Preston was not my mother’s ally. He’d take them out for just knowing her name. My brother didn’t give a shit about our parents. They were nothing but annoying obstacles in the cogs that he couldn’t just get rid of because Ava and I were in the way. Ava was a daddy’s girl through and through, and I cared about our parents.
Would I call it love? Probably not. If they died, I’d feel the loss, sure, but I had no urge to protect them. Hell, I felt more loyal to Micha and his brother than I did to them. There was only one person on this earth I’d die to protect.
I glared down at the prick trying to push me away and slapped him across the face. He’d put his hands on her. Dared to taint her with his touch. I knew guys like this. Strolling into a town like they owned it, because as far as they were concerned, they were better than everyone else. Except this was Ashen Springs. Our town. And unlike them, we didn’t think we were better…
We knew we were.
Was this prick going to cry? Wouldn’t be the first time. Though usually it was Preston making some poor sap cry for mercy. This guy should consider himself lucky. I’d just fuck him up a little. His friends, however…
I could feel warm drops of blood hitting my back from Logan’s swinging fists. He was behind me, on top of the big one. Logan had that look in his eyes. The one he got when he’d completely lost control. Not sure what that guy did to piss him off, but there wouldn’t be much of his face left when Logan was done. Then again, no one walked away from a fight with Logan without at least one scar. He’d marked us all in one way or another. Preston’s foot, my arm, and Micha’s leg. Mase was the only one he took it easy on. Never did understand why.
“Come on, pussy.” Micha reached out and bitch slapped the guy he was squaring off with. “Is that all you got?”
He only had a few bruises and a couple cuts. No more than Micha himself. Knowing our illustrious leader, he was probably just toying with the fucker. Micha’s thrill didn’t come from the beat down. It came from the mindfuck.
And then there was my brother.
I glanced over at the guy curled up in the fetal position, blubbering like a little girl. Preston stood calmly over him and lit a smoke. Logan and Preston were lethal. No one liked squaring off with them, but at least with Logan you could see it coming. He’d get this feral look in his eyes. With Preston, there was nothing. That was the scary part. I grew up with the asshole. I knew what he took in his coffee, who he lost his virginity to, and how he liked his steak. And even I couldn’t read him.
Preston took a long pull off his smoke and flicked the ashes down on his victim. “Got anything else smart to say?”
“I’m sorry, man.” The guy started crying harder when my brother crouched down and grabbed his chin. “I won’t fucking say it again.”
“I know you won’t.” Preston stood up, grabbed his ankle, and dragged him away. “You won’t be saying much of anything when I’m done with you.”
I’d say the smell of piss was coming from that one.
The fight was dying down. Micha had finished playing with his guy and had him down on the ground, Preston was doing God knows what out of sight, and Logan jumped up off the beaten mess he left behind.
“I need a fucking drink,” he said, swiping the blood off his face.
