Leo could try to talk the problem to death, but Bo was done talking.
He pulled back his fist and plowed right into that asshole in the suit. He went straight for the fucker’s face. Bo heard a satisfying crunch and a howl of pain. Yeah, that felt good.
“Bo!” Trev barked out his name.
Bo looked at Trev who glowered disapprovingly, but Leo was smiling.
The man he’d hit was still howling. Bryce was growling into a cell phone, probably calling the cops. Damn. He was going to jail again, but this time it was going to be worth it.
Like always at The Rusty Spur, the minute the first fist flew, the bar exploded. It was as though violence was always simmering right there at the surface, just waiting for any excuse to let loose. Almost immediately, Bo felt someone tug on his shirt and a fist smash into his face.
“Hey, asshole, what did you do to Clarissa?” One of Clarissa’s old boyfriends shoved another fist into Bo’s face.
“Fuck off!” Trev threw himself into the fight. The man might have sworn off liquor, but it seemed he hadn’t sworn off fighting. Trev pummeled the guy, tossing him aside when he was done.
Bo lashed out at the next man Clarissa had sent. He could see her standing outside the fray, a humorless smile on her face. Arms and legs tangled in a violent display as the world became a mad mix of fierce joy and righteous pain. Bo welcomed both.
He punched out at anything that came too close. The music suddenly seemed louder. The lights brighter. Everything seemed to come to life as he realized he wasn’t alone in the fight. Trev was behind him, their backs almost touching.
“We’re going to have a talk about your lamentable lack of control, Bo.” Trev plowed his fist into Brian Nixon’s gut.
“Yeah, well, we’re going to have to talk about your bossiness, McNamara.” But he could feel the grin on his face.
“Fuck!” Bryce Hughes screamed as he started to run, pushing against anyone in his way. “I will sue you, asshole.”
His nose looked broken. Bo couldn’t miss the satisfied smile on Leo’s face.
The doors to the bar flew open, and the sheriff and both of his deputies charged in.
Bo was still smiling as they put him in the back of the squad car. Trev was shoved in after him. This time he wasn’t alone.
Chapter Thirteen
Mouse paced. She walked through her house which now had a sturdy door and locks on every entryway. She’d made sure all the windows were solid. She’d even checked the attic to make sure there was no way someone could get in that way. She’d done just about everything she could with the tools she had, and still Trev hadn’t found his way home.
A note. She’d gotten a note saying something had come up, and he’d be back later. That was it. And he wasn’t answering his phone. It kept going to voice mail. What had happened?
A million scenarios played through her brain—none of them good. She’d tried his sister, but her phone had gone straight to voice mail, too.
Mouse sat down on her rickety stairs, phone in hand. Why had he left? She’d worked so hard in the short time she’d had to obliterate that nasty message the young man who’d attacked her had left. She’d put two coats of primer and three coats of paint on the wall, and for the life of her she could no longer see the words. Trev wouldn’t have been able to see them. She’d been worried he would leave to protect her, but she didn’t want to be protected. Not like that.
Or he might have just changed his mind, and this was his way of telling her.
The phone in her hand buzzed. Mouse flipped it open as quick as she could. “Trev?”
“No, hon, it’s Wanda.”
Wanda? Why was Wanda calling? There was only one reason Wanda called, and that was to spread gossip about the people who got hauled into the sheriff’s department. Mouse’s heart fell. “What did he do?”
“Which one, hon?”
Mouse sat up straighter. “Trev, of course.”
“Well, I had to ask because both Trev and Bo got their butts hauled in along with that attractive man who thinks I would make a good Dom DeLuise. That’s not flattering, mister. I don’t care what you say.” Wanda sounded like she was talking to someone else. “Seriously, Mouse, you have to get your men under control. Lou is in a crappy mood now because he had to hose down the second cell. No one uses that second cell, and now it’s full of puke. It’s really your fault. If they think I’m cleaning up after a bunch of drunk-ass twenty-year-olds, those boys are wrong. I have shit on both those deputies, and I won’t hesitate to use it. I just got my nails done. Do you know how much Sue charges these days? Well, let me tell you, I’m not wasting these nails on cleaning.”
Mouse heard Wanda take a breath. It was the only chance she was going to get. “Wanda, what did Trev and Bo do?”
“Oh, they did what all those boys do. They got in a fight. Why boys need to beat on each other I have no idea.”
Mouse got to her feet and started looking for her keys. Damn it. She was going to have to drive. She hated driving, but apparently Trev had gone looking for Bo and they had fought. Fought. Oh, that was absolutely the last thing she wanted. “Is Bo still alive?”
There was a laugh, and Wanda was talking to someone else. “She wants to know if you’re still alive, Bo.”
“Hell, Mouse, I’m not exactly fragile. Beth, I mean, Beth. Damn it, that hurt, Trev.” Bo sounded far away, but she got the idea.
“Wanda, you have to separate them.” Mouse found the keys to the ancient car her father had left her.
“Oh, Trev wouldn’t let Bo go into the other cell. He did this whole thing where his eyes got cold and suddenly all the men in the room just do what he tells them to do. I don’t get that. I would have just done what I wanted, but it does seem to get to the men. So he and Bo and the other one are in one cell, and everyone else is in that second cell, and let me tell you, that man from New York City is getting on my nerves. We really should be able to send him to a bigger lockup just for that accent alone. How am I supposed to follow that? He talks so fast.”
But Mouse was out the door. Like it or not, she was driving, and she had to hope that her car was going to get with the game plan.
Trev felt cold deep in his gut. He’d taken care of everything he’d needed to, and now he could let the guilt wash over him. He sat down on the hard bench and looked over into the second cell where Marty held a compress over his nose. He sat sullenly among the other men the sheriff had managed to catch.
“You’re an asshole, Trev. And your choice in friends has gone way downhill.” Marty spat out the words.
Trev merely leaned back against the bars. His last set of friends had been a bunch of druggies and dealers and Marty himself. He kind of thought Bo was a step up. And Leo. Crap. He’d gotten his mentor tossed in the can. He looked over where Leo stood in the corner talking quietly to Jimmy Nixon. He hoped Leo wasn’t having to listen to crap about how city folk always came into town and ruined everything. He’d gotten enough of that from the deputy.
And now Beth had been called to come get them all. His heart ached. He was going to have to tell her he was leaving.
“Fine, I’m an asshole. When does our plane leave?” Trev had to do it. He needed the money now. He had to get his sister out of debt. She couldn’t go on working in a strip club.