That was my cue.
Miles might’ve been the cop once, and Easton might’ve had the size advantage thanks to all the hours he spent lifting weights, but I knew how to fight. I’d spent years with a personal trainer learning Krav Maga as an outlet for my anger. I was used to working out daily, taking care of myself, and sharpening my body the same way I sharpened my mind.
But tonight, I’d been drinking. My reflexes weren’t what they should be.
The older Murphy caught me clean across the jaw before I could duck. The crack of it rattled through my skull, my teeth clacking hard enough to make me see stars. It wasn’t the worst punch I’d ever taken, but it had me stumbling back a step, cursing under my breath as the burn settled into my cheek. Tomorrow it would bruise like hell.
“You piece of shit,” he growled, chest heaving, thinking he’d actually won something.
That mistake pissed me off more than the punch.
I straightened, drove my elbow hard into his gut, and watched him fold over with a grunt before shoving him back. “You could’ve avoided all of this by staying the hell away from my wife.”
“This has nothing to do with that stupid bitch,” he spat, grabbing a chair and swinging it across the bar. Splinters flew as it shattered, along with several other pieces of furniture. Miles and Huck broke apart at the sound, and both Murphys backed away to regroup.
“You better watch your mouth,” I warned, my voice low, dangerous.
He didn’t listen. He never did. “This ain’t about Fiddlers. This is about Brittany. You fucked her while she was pregnant with my kid and then forced her to leave town.”
I froze, staring at him, head cocked like I’d misheard. But I hadn’t. And for the first time that night, I didn’t have a damn clue what he was talking about.
“Well,” Miles muttered from beside me, still catching his breath. “I guess that solves the mystery of who her baby daddy is.”
The words ricocheted around my head, but the fight wasn’t over.
“I’ve been coming in here for years,” Buddy spat, his face red with fury. “Ever since I figured out Blue was Brittany’s sister. I want to know where she is. Where she’s been all these years. But no matter how much I blow up, Blue never gives anything away.”
“Blue has nothing to do with Brittany. Blue hates her. I hate her,” I snapped. “But I know where she is.”
“West,” Miles warned, his tone sharp, but I wasn’t about to hand over details. I wasn’t callous enough to give Brittany’s location, but I wasn’t stupid either. The Murphys needed to know I held the leverage.
“Stay away from Blue. Stay away from this bar. Keeping my wife safe and happy is the only thing I care about.”
I stalked toward Buddy, intent on ending this with one last punch, when flashing lights washed over the broken glass on the floor.
The cops.
Sure enough, Linc and Captain Davis came barreling through the doorway. Both in civilian clothes, both flashing badges. Miles must’ve texted them earlier.
I took one last step toward Buddy, smirking at the blood running down his face. “I don’t know how long you’re gonna sit in jail for this, but I do know the only chance you’ve got at ever getting what you want is making damn sure I don’t want to kill you.”
Linc and Captain Davis separated the brothers, handcuffing them and rattling off questions. Miles gave the rundown of their break and entry, our self-defense, and whatever they were going to need for a standard report. And I let him. My head was still spinning from that hit, and I suddenly felt the weight of the night settling in my bones.
I reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone, tossing it on the bar, acknowledging it was shattered. Then I sank onto the stool next to Easton, who shoved a glass of water into my hand.
“Hell of a show,” he muttered, grinning like only a little brother could. “Kinda jealous, but I’ve got a kid at home. Bruises on my face would only scare him.”
I snorted, took a long swig, then splashed some over my face. The cool sting helped, but only a little.
“You know,” I muttered, my jaw aching as the words slurred out, “I had a lot of questions about Brittany. Didn’t expect those idiots to answer them for me. But I guess that was convenient.”
“Yeah,” Easton said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Convenient. Now let’s get you home before you bleed all over the place.”
He hauled me up, putting an arm around me so I didn’t stumble while Miles waved us off. “I’ll stay behind,” Miles called after us. “After I finish talking to the cops, I’ll get the bar cleaned up.”
I nodded, leaning into Easton’s steady grip as he steered me toward the hallway and to the back door. My jaw throbbed, my knuckles ached, and my chest was heavy. One problem down, but there were too many more waiting.
Chapter Fifty-Six
