Page 69 of A Simple Mistake
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t.”Gareth found the tiniest of smiles.“I appreciate what you’re doing, and I value you as a friend.”
“And friends can give each other a black eye now and then without hard feelings.”
Gareth shuddered, the itch of violence stronger now.Aidan had an exercise room in the back, he knew, and working out his frustration in a bout of sparring was a sensible suggestion.But sparring wasn’t what Gareth needed.
“Thanks, but no.I’d better head back.”
Conrad’s expression grew thunderous.“Don’t you dare get into it with Horwood,” he admonished.“That man fights dirty.”
Gareth didn’t even grace that with an answer.
Clubs weren’t his natural habitat.Gareth had felt ancient in the crowd queuing for entrance to Purple Line, and once inside had found the beer warm, the music deafening, and the bass thumping hard enough to rearrange his internal organs.How Jack put up with the riot was a mystery to him.He thought longingly of dinner and a play at the Orange Tree before he mentally kicked himself.
He wasn’t here for R&R, but to understand what went on in clubs like this one, stop it if he could.
It didn’t take him long to see it, the brawny older guys hitting on kids the bouncers shouldn’t have let inside, and it curdled his stomach.All he could hear was Daniel screaming himself awake, see him flinch at the most innocent sound.Daniel’s journey hadn’t started in a club, but it had started with an older man putting his hands on him without Daniel’s consent.
Gareth left his half-drunk beer on the bar and circled the dance floor.Here, where shadows battled the light, the pairings were even more uneven.What was it with these guys that they had to hit on youngsters?
“Fuck off, man, you’re cramping my style.”A blond, bearded man in a leather vest shoved him with a growl.
He had the air of someone ready for a fight, which suited Gareth just fine.Gareth gave him his blandest look.“Fuck off yourself.”
That was all it took.
He caught the swinging fist in his palm, sidestepped a kick, and then got into it, using frustration and failure as fuel.He wasn’t the only one, either, though he had to be the least inebriated of them all.
Gareth shoved the nearest guy hard against the grimy wall.He was about to lay him out when he caught an elbow to the ribs that made him grunt.He turned on his attacker, his fist hitting a jaw made from concrete, before he took a couple of punishing blows from its owner.
“Flynn.Stop it.”A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, arresting his momentum.
Gareth spun, drew back for a punch—and what the fuck was Rio Palmer doing in Purple Line?
“Stop fighting.”Rio’s command cut through the noise in his head, even as Rio drew him backwards, away from the melee.“Unless you need to make it worse first, in which case Ah suggest we head outside.More room and less chance to get arrested.”He grabbed Gareth’s arm and towed him away from the scuffle that showed no sign of slowing down.“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
Gareth shrugged.“I wanted to see what Jack does.”
“Bullshit.”Rio didn’t even raise his voice.“You know what he does.”
“Not firsthand.”He stopped a safe distance from the fight and faced Rio.“And not after Mitrovic’s brother tried to kidnap the boys.”
“What?And what do you mean—tried?”
“They didn’t get to them.”
“Ah see.”
Gareth swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak.“I saw fuck all.I should’ve been paying attention.Seen it coming.Stopped it.”
Rio’s gaze bored into him.“You’re no’ clairvoyant, Gareth, an’ shit happens whether you predict it or no’.Is Jack back from Japan?”
The wail of sirens, near enough for the sound to seep through the open door into the club, made Gareth look around.Had someone called the police?Nobody else was taking note.
“Come on.Let’s get out of here,” Rio said.
The night air hit Gareth like a splash of cold water.The sirens sounded closer.And yeah, the rage was still there.“I should’ve known something was wrong.”
“You can’ watch every second.”
