Page 102 of Cash

“Fuck you,” he says, and then he charges.

I’m bigger than him, and I have my brothers. It ain’t a fair fight. That don’t stop me from locking my arm around his head in a half nelson. I hold him there while he tries to jab me in the side.

I squeeze his neck. “Stop.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m telling you, stop before you hurt yourself.”

Wyatt’s pulling me back again, saying, “Let him go, Cash. He ain’t worth it.”

“Let him go, my God,” Mollie repeats. “Right now. Please.”

I meet her eyes. They’re alive, gleaming in the neon light of a Pabst Blue Ribbon sign. I see anger there, sure. A little fear.

And a flame that ignites a fire inside my skin.

I release my hold on Palmer. He straightens, spits on the floor.

“Get gone.” I put my hands on my hips, breathing hard. “Don’t ever—ever—come back. While you’re at it, stop toyin’ with women, yeah?”

I half expect him to lunge for me again. If he leaves now, he’s running with his tail between his legs. But like the coward he is, he looks at me. Looks toward the door.

Doesn’t even look at Mollie before making a beeline for the exit.

A beat later, the roar of tires on gravel fills the silence inside the bar.

“That escalated quickly.” Ryder passes me a bar napkin. I use it to wipe my hands. “Care to explain what happened?”

Mollie stays rooted to the spot. She’s staring at me.

“What?” I crumple the napkin and toss it into the trash can behind the counter. “Guy was showin’ his ass. I gave him the attitude adjustment he needed.”

“An attitude adjustment?” Mollie stares at me. “Cash, you punched him in the face.”

“Only after he punched me.”

“It—I—seriously, it doesn’t matter. There’s never a good reason to punch someone.”

“I beg to differ.”

Her eyes toggle between mine. Searching. For what?

She looks as mixed up as I feel.

Why are you messing around with clowns like that?

Why does that fact make me lose my ever-loving mind?

“What iswrongwith you?” she asks.

Wish I knew. “I was sticking up for you.”

She squares those shoulders. “You know what? I’m—I should—” She throws up her hands. “I need a minute.”

“Mollie—”

“Don’t.” She moves past me. I resist the urge to grab her. “Nothing you can say right now will make this better.”