Trey clocked it too and with a raised brow said, “He only lefttwentyminutes ago?”
“Not nearly enough time to get to Boise and back,” I said, catching his meaning.
My truck was wired with a few Kojak lights for emergency situations that occurred when I was off shift, so I flipped them on and pulled over to the side of the road. I half expected Johns to blow right by us, but he pulled over on the opposite shoulder, got out, and crossed to me and Trey.
“Sheriff. Trey.” He nodded at each of us in turn with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the portrait of nonchalance. “What’s?—”
Whatever else he’d been about to say was cut off by my fist ramming into the center of his face.
A sickening crunch filled the space between us as his nose shattered, and blood spurted, flowing freely from his nostrils down his face.
“What the fuck!” he shouted, recovering surprisingly quickly and coming at me, fists raised.
When he was within range, I struck again, relishing the burn as my knuckles split open against his jaw. Johns stumbled backward but still didn’t go down.
Instead, he regarded me thoughtfully, as though finally coming to terms with what was happening here. Finally realizing Iknew.
He grinned, and blood stained his teeth.
“Where is she?” I asked before he could say anything.
“With Addie. Probably already dead.”
A third punch knocked him out cold.
For a moment, I stood over him, wishing like hell I could beat the life out of him, but that wouldn’t do me or Sutton any favors in the long run. Instead, I spit on him—exactly as he’d spit in the face of all the men and women who had dedicated their lives to upholding the law, not breaking it.
We were ignoring how hypocritical of me that was.
Though I hated wasting time on him, I lifted Johns up and dragged him back across the road, stuffing him behind the wheel of the van.
Then I stalked back to Trey.
“Gonna need you to hit me, big brother.”
“What? Fuck no.”
I lifted my hands, making acome ongesture before dropping them again, letting them hang loosely at my sides. “C’mon, Trey. This needs to look like self-defense.”
“You’re insane.”
“Please stop acting like you haven’t always wanted to?—”
My head snapped back with the impact of his fist. He’d caught me on the jaw, and I worked it around, tongue probing my mouth to make sure none of my teeth were loose. For how wiry he was, my brother packed one hell of a punch.
“One more.”
Trey obliged, though I could tell from the look on his face a moment before that he really hated me for it.
This time, he hit near my temple, and the thin skin above my brow split open, blood trickling down the side of my face.
“Let’s go.”
Back in the truck, Trey rooted around in the glove box and came away with a stack of napkins from the diner, handing them over. I shook a couple free and pressed them to my forehead.
“Fuck you for making me do that.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
