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Richard’s face had turned to a pale sheet. Shock does that to a person. His mouth stayed shut for a long fifteen seconds.

‘I’ll kill them,’ he finally blurted out.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘I don’t care. I’ll go there with a crowbar and I’ll… I’ll fucking beat them to within an inch of their lives.’

‘No need for that.’

‘Why not?’

‘I dealt with them.’

Richard looked up. ‘Huh?’

‘Recognise that car?’ King said, pointing to the battered sedan.

‘Isn’t that the post office guy’s ride?’ Richard said after studying the vehicle for a moment.

‘It is.’

‘What are you doing with it? Is he okay?’

‘He’s perfectly fine. In fact, I’d say he’s never better.’

‘He put you up to it?’

‘He let me know what was going on around town. Are you aware?’

‘Of course,’ Richard said. ‘But this is a tiny town. There’s nothing they could do to stop it.’

‘I stopped it. I got a bit angry when I saw them with your daughter and I trashed the whole place. Badly injured them all too. I don’t think you’ll ever see them around again.’

‘W-who are you?’

King sighed. ‘Seems like everyone’s asking me that question lately.’

CHAPTER 11

King gripped the small mug of steaming black coffee that Richard had given him and hunched further over the dining table, which was a thick slab of polished wood. It reminded him of the bar from the night before. Back when this whole thing started, just over twelve hours ago. He certainly hadn’t been expecting such madness in a small country town off the beaten track.

Beside him, a large open fire crackled. Richard sat on the other side of the table, sipping at a coffee identical to King’s.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Richard said. ‘Is there any way you can explain who you are? Because without you, I don’t know where my daughter would be.’

‘I really can’t say much,’ King said. ‘But you’re welcome.’

‘You can bet your life I won’t let anything like that ever happen again.’

‘Let’s hope not.’

‘It’s so hard to keep an eye on her at all times. I didn’t realise what a mistake I was making until now.’

‘Amanda said you’re looking for work?’

Richard nodded. ‘I was laid off a month ago. So many of us were. There’s a place twenty minutes out of town that’s been there forever. Owned by a couple of locals.’

‘What happened?’

‘Came under new management. Overseas buyers kicked all the old workers out.’

‘Seems a bit harsh.’

He shrugged again. ‘It’s how things are these days. No job safety.’

‘How’s the employment search going?’

‘Terribly. Have you seen where we are? Jameson’s not rife with opportunities.’

‘Well,’ King said, ‘this should get you through until you work out what to do.’

He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew half of the bills taken from the clubhouse kitchen. It looked to be well over ten thousand dollars. Richard’s eyes widened at the sight.

‘This is too much,’ he muttered.

‘Take it. Just promise you’ll keep an eye on Amanda as best you can.’

‘Of course I will.’

King slid the money across the table.

‘I really don’t understand what’s going on…’

‘I’m not asking you to understand,’ King said. ‘I’m just telling you that you won’t get any more problems from those bikers. And giving you some of what I found there. Use it to stay afloat until you get employed. And take care of your daughter.’

‘I promise.’

King rose from the table and took one last look around the place. It was a house that had been meticulously furnished as a labour of love. The art on the walls, the rugs on the floor, the large open fireplace, the beat-up armchairs, the smell of the forest all around. Nothing expensive, just a collection of bits and pieces saved up over the years to create the thing that King never had; a home.

‘This is a really nice place,’ he said to Richard.

‘Thank you.’

‘I mean it. You’re a lucky man.’

‘You got a place?’

King shook his head. ‘I’ve never really lived anywhere. Always been on the move.’

‘You moved around America? You’ve still got the accent.’

‘Every single person feels the need to bring that up over here.’

Richard laughed. ‘Foreigners. They always spark interest.’

‘Yeah, I moved around America. But also all over the world.’

A pause. ‘Were you in the Army?’

‘Kind of.’

Richard sighed emphatically. ‘Well, Jason, you’re a hard man to crack. That’s for sure. But I’ll always be in your debt, mate.’

He offered a hand.

‘To be honest, I’ll probably never see you again,’ King said, grasping it and shaking. ‘But I appreciate the thought.’

Richard pulled an unprofessional-looking business card out of his pocket and handed it over. It had nothing but his name and mobile phone number handwritten on the front.

‘Just in case you find someone looking for workers on your travels,’ he said. ‘Tell them to give me a call.’

King nodded his understanding and tucked the card into his jeans. ‘I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open.’

Amanda emerged from one of the doorways, her brow furrowed. ‘You’re going already?’

‘I don’t tend to hang around too long in one place,’ King said.

‘I think you should settle down,’ Richard said. ‘Something about this house has grabbed you, I can tell. Go find a home somewhere. You don’t need to move your whole life.’

‘I know. But for now, it’s what I’d prefer.’

Amanda stayed leaning against the doorframe. ‘Good luck with whatever it is you’re going to do.’

‘Thank you,’ he said.

King moved to the front door. Opened it.

‘Take care of yourselves,’ he said, nodding to Richard and Amanda.

They nodded back.

King strode back to Billy’s sedan. He swung the door open and climbed in. Started the car with a quick twist in the ignition and pulled the wheel in a tight arc, heading back the way he had come.

The trip to Jameson passed in silence. All the action of the last hour had put his mind to rest. Ashamedly, that life was all he had ever known. When there was conflict, he was at peace. He hated to admit it, but it was the truth. The day-to-day happenings of ordinary life had almost become too monotonous to handle, even though he slept somewhere different every night. He knew if he was to move on from that life he should avoid situations like what had happened at the clubhouse. It did nothing but bring back old memories.

He parked the sedan in front of the post office after sixteen minutes of driving.

It’s useless to time everything so meticulously, he thought as he slammed the door shut. Another old habit he would do good to forget.

By now it was high noon. In the city, this meant stores would be at their busiest, bustling with white-collar workers on their lunch break. Here, everyone was now farming. The morning rush had all but subsided. King spotted two people on the main road as he made his way into the post office. Jameson was a ghost town.

‘Jesus Christ!’ a voice proclaimed as the door jangled upon his arrival.

He saw Billy standing behind the counter at the other end of the store. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. Even from this distance King could make out the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was beaming.