Chapter 6

six

. . .

Walker

I stared down at the nearly empty pint glass in front of me as the hum of music blended with the deep murmurs of the bar patrons' conversations. I wasn't here to socialize. I was nursing my broken heart and washing away the pain with alcohol.

Yesterday had been bad enough. Finding out they'd been married all this time and River telling me to kick rocks after I poured my heart out to her. But then my asshole brother had to go and add insult to injury.

My lip curled in a snarl as the headline that had greeted me on the front page of the morning's paper scrolled across the dive bar's lone TV:

Daniel Cross Jr. (Billionaire Bachelor and Rancher Royalty) Finally Marries Childhood Sweetheart In Secret Wedding

I gripped the glass so hard I was surprised it didn't crack under the pressure. "Childhood sweetheart? She was my fucking childhood sweetheart." I knocked back the remnants of my drink, forcing myself to look away when a photo of River and Cross appeared on the screen. It had been taken the night of the gala. I remembered clearly because I should've been in the damn photo, but they'd cropped me and Bishop out for this story.

"They make a nice couple, don't they?" A highball glass filled with whiskey slid across the table to me as Tex took a seat.

"Nice isn't the word I'd use." I cocked a brow at him. "Did I say you could sit down?"

"Since when do I need an invite? We're practically family."

I scoffed. "Family hasn't done anything but make me fucking angry lately. Don't know if that's what you're going for, but you sure seem to be headed down that same path."

Tex gave me a considering look, nursing his own drink. "You need someone to take your anger out on? I know a couple places you might be able to do some damage. A little retaliation for the herd we lost a few weeks back."

That perked me up. A fight sounded like exactly what the doctor ordered, and since I couldn't go after the man responsible for ruining my life, a stand-in would do nicely.

"You found them?"

"We tracked them down this morning. A couple of the guys and I'll be heading out around midnight to pay a call and take back what's ours."

"Count me in."

Tex nodded as if he'd expected nothing less. Then he tilted his head toward the TV again. "I thought he didn't even like her. Shows what I know, huh?" he said with a little chuckle.

Any excitement I had about the night fizzled out as my reason for being here came crashing back down on me. I knocked back the nearly full glass of whiskey, relishing the burn.

"I don't know what he's thinking, but she matters to us both. I just really thought it'd be me."

Tex whistled. "That's some real soap opera shit right there."

"What do you know about soap operas?"

"My gran used to make me watch that hospital one with her."

"Uh huh."

He grunted and rolled his eyes. "I like Yellowstone, okay? That Rip guy isn't half bad."

"Found yourself a role model, didja?" I eyed his dusty hat and vest. I could see it.

"Maybe I did." He grinned. "It gets my boots under plenty of beds. Especially once I grew the beard."

I simply shook my head, unable to come up with a retort for that one. "Call me when y'all are ready, and I'll meet you."

"Will do, boss. And in the meantime, if you need me, you know where to reach me." Tex stood and gestured for the waitress as he tipped his hat to me.

I groaned inwardly as the pretty brunette sashayed toward me, deep brown eyes sparkling with flirtatious energy I knew well. "What can I do for you, sugar?"

"Hey, Tina. Looking good, as always."

"Not good enough to get you to take me out again, apparently."

Tina and I had dated in high school, then shared an on-again-off-again situation over a few years. We'd had an understanding. Any time we were both single, we'd help scratch that itch. Friends with benefits, except we weren't friends.

"I'm not single."

"You look plenty single to me."

"Looks can be deceiving."

She pouted. "And here I thought you showing up tonight was a sign."

"A sign I need a damn drink. How long have you worked here?"

"Couple of months. Anton got me a job here. He likes to watch me work."

She rested her hip against my table, making the scraps of fabric she called clothes ride up higher. The girl was showing so much skin, she wouldn't be out of place at a topless bar. I could see why her man wanted to keep an eye on her. Especially if she made a habit out of getting friendly with her customers.

"Wait, if you're dating someone . . ."

She winked. "I've always got room in my schedule for you, Walker Cross. Now, if you're not gonna take me home tonight, what can I get you?"

"Another one of these." I lifted my pint glass, opting for more beer rather than whiskey since I planned on working later. "And keep 'em coming."

"You got it, handsome."

Hours later, I'd finally settled my tab and pulled myself up by my bootstraps. I wasn't gonna let River go easily, not when I knew for a fact she still wanted me, but I'd come to a decision. I'd give her some space, keep her in my line of sight and make sure she was protected, but I was still firmly keeping myself out of the friend zone. She might be my brother's wife, but she was my everything.

Until I could have her again, I'd throw myself into the family business, the real business. Cross had been following our trucks and trying to figure out who our rat was. I could take that over. I could be just as convincing as he was. Lord knows I wouldn't have any trouble beating the shit out of someone until they wanted to talk. And I certainly had a little extra anger to purge these days. I didn't see that changing anytime soon. Not until River changed her mind.

Palming my keys, I stepped out of the bar and into the warm humid night, annoyed as all get out that all but one of the lights in the parking lot had burned out. Fucking dive bars. Once you left, they didn't care if you fell on your face and died, as long as it didn't happen under their roofs.

I only made it a few steps before I dropped my keys, swaying slightly. I had to brace myself on the useless lamppost in order to keep from falling as I scooped my keys off the pavement. It took four tries.

Fuck.

I was drunker than I thought. No way I could drive home like this. Time to find a ride. Maybe Tina would oblige. She liked me. She wouldn't stomp all over my heart and marry my brother.

Actually, I was pretty sure she would jump at the chance to be his. Every-fucking-one would. That motherfucker?—

I didn't get a chance to finish my tirade before something hard flew into my face and sent me spinning. Instant agony ripped across my cheek, and my vision went black for a moment as I worked to keep my balance.

"The fuck?"

"Damn, I thought he was actually going to put up a fight." My attacker's amused laughter would've had me kicking his ass if I wasn't so damn drunk.

"Give him a second. Not like you gave him a chance," a second, gravelly voice replied.

"You critiquing me?"

"Just sayin'. They call it a sucker punch for a reason."

The two voices floated above me as I blinked to clear my eyes. I didn't recognize either of them, but this didn't feel like a random attack.

"Well, let's make sure he sees the rest of these coming," the shit-talker said.

I tried to dodge as his fist came toward my face, but there was too much alcohol in my system, and my reactions were slower than normal. Brass knuckles slammed into my chin, splitting my lip. Great. My face was gonna be ruined. River liked my face.

I was doubled over, still not seeing clearly. Like an idiot, I'd left my gun at home. Cross would never let me live it down—unless these guys killed me, of course. And I'd dropped my keys again during that first blow to the head, so the only weapons I had on me were my fists and my brain. And I think my brain was taking a lunch. Concussions tended to do that to you, and with the way the lights were going all squiggly, I had a hunch I might have one.

Not sure what the fuck else to do, I ran toward the guy closest to me, hoping to tackle him so I could start throwing some punches of my own. I might be outnumbered, but I wasn't going down without a fight.

They were ready for me, though, and within moments I was on my back on the dirty ground, trying and failing to get away from their well-placed and vicious kicks. I saw stars when one of them got me in the side, right where I'd been stabbed a few weeks back. The pain was unbearable, causing me to roll over and bring up everything I'd had to drink that night.

Fuck, they really were trying to kill me. And I couldn't even find the breath to ask what I'd done to deserve it. Maybe I'd fucked one of their girlfriends. That sounded like me.

"That's enough," a deep accented voice said, thankfully making them stop their assault on my sides. "I'll take it from here."

"Fucking . . . Russian . . . cocksucker," I wheezed.

The man above me tsked. I could just barely make out the lines of his suit and the black metal bar he held loosely in his hand.

"Now, is that any way to speak to a friend?"

Friend? Motherfucker, you're trying to kill me.

None of that came out, though. I just groaned and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"I hope you weren't planning on running any marathons, Mr. Cross," the Russian said, kneeling beside me and speaking conversationally, like he wasn't threatening me with a crowbar.

"Why?"

"Because you won't be able to walk when I'm through with you." He patted me on the leg like it was no big deal before he stood and shifted his weight. The change in position allowed the glimmer of light from the one fucking lamp to reflect in his eyes. Raising the weapon, he brought it down on my leg so hard the bone audibly snapped.

I couldn't help it. A scream tore from my throat.

"Oh, and Mr. Cross, please do tell your brother that Dominik sends his regards."

Then he slammed the crowbar down once more for good measure, and I succumbed to the pain as the world went black.