“We’re just out on a night off, fellas,” Will, ever the peacemaker, said. “We’re not looking for trouble.”
The big one in the back had the nerve to laugh with his big ass-arms folded across his chest. “We’re not looking for trouble,” he mimed.
“But we don’t fucking run from it, either,” I said through gritted teeth with my hands tightening into fists at my sides.
It was stupid.
I knew it was dumb to let these fuckers rile me up with such little provocation, but again, I wasn’t in my right frame of mind. Since Savannah had come back into my life, the tight lid I could always keep on my emotions had begun to become pried open.
“I don’t fucking like you Air Force bastards,” the one in the front said. “You all think you’re hotshots when you ain’t shit.” He stepped closer to me. “If you were that fucking tough, you would’ve joined the real military like the Marines. Hell, even the Army would've been better than the fucking Air Force.”
The guys behind him chuckled until I said, “If you walked in on your wife blowing an Airman, just say that.” It was my turn to laugh. “No need to insult our entire branch because your lady left you for one of us.”
His face reddened, and I could almost see the steam rising from his head. Their laughter ceased.
A slow, sardonic smile crested on my lips. I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.
“Fuck you,” he growled.
I saw the fist coming from a mile away and went to block it and counter, but the follow through never made contact.
Instead, a much larger hand cupped this guy’s fist with ease. His face twisted and strained as he tried to break free of the hold.
The air around me stilled and shifted in a way that I was familiar with.
Very few people I knew had that kind of impact on an entire room.
Peering up, I saw my cousin, Chael, looming over the prick. He wasn’t alone, either.
The bar had filled with about half a dozen other guys with stern faces, wearing leather jackets. It surprised me that I hadn’t heard their motorcycles when they pulled up.
“Chael,” I said matter-of-factly.
Slowly, Chael turned his head in my direction, a blank expression on his face.
“You’ve brought the crew, huh?” I asked coolly, glancing around at them.
“We were passing through, little cousin,” he said, his voice calm and even, though he still gripped the guy’s fist.
I bristled against the reminder that he was the older of the two of us. He was like Micah in that way, constantly reminding me who had seniority.
“Let me go,” the fuckface strained to say, interrupting my family reunion.
“Not until you let me know you can keep your hands to yourself,” Chael said to the guy.
“Fuck off,” he said. “Ow,” he howled when Chael effortlessly turned his arm, pivoting the guy’s shoulder in a way that required more mobility than he probably had.
“Okay, okay. I promise.”
Chael instantly let him go and pushed him away. “It’s time for you all to leave,” he instructed, with a directive in his voice so sharp, not a soul would question it.
The three guys who hovered over our table damn near broke their ankles, hustling out of the bar.
“The hell?” Will asked behind me.
That was when I realized I should explain this somehow. I glanced over my shoulder. “Will, this is my cousin, Chael.” I gestured to the tall Apache standing before me.
“You mean the cousin who always seems to know when you’re out west even though you don’t tell him beforehand?” Maple asked as he stepped forward.
