"I'm telling you if you fucked my sister, there'll be hell to pay,” Jett shouts.
I scoff, cracking my knuckles. I've been in plenty of fights in my life. And usually I have Beam as my backup, but he's not here right now. But I'm not going to let them treat Marley like this. They may say she's not their property, but they're making it clear that she is.
Dylan pulls back his arm, about to throw a punch in my direction, but I grab him by the collar of his jacket and shove him back. "Don't you lay a hand on me.”
“Or what?" Jett asks.
"I could kick your asses." Even as I say it, I know my fighting days are done. I’d rather let them beat the snot out of me than walk away knowing I hurt the only family Marley has.
"Stop it," Marley shouts. "I mean it, you guys. Stop fighting."
These boys, the River Boys, don’t hear her though. They want to fuck with me. Gavin throws a punch, landing smack on my jaw. I hear my fucking teeth rattle and I'm filled with fury. He pulls back his hand again, ready to land another, but I catch it with one hand this time and pull him in with my other.
"What did you say to me? You think you can deal with me?" I ask.
Before I can finish him, Jett pushes me back, hard. His brother punches me across my cheekbone and I see stars. Blood drips from his knuckle and I punch him back, hard, in his gut. Not because I want to fight, but because I need this to end.
I kick Jett in the gut and while he’s catching his breath, Dylan punches me across the cheekbone and the other brother comes around behind me. I whip my head back, cracking the back of my skull into his nose at the same time as I bring a knee up, letting it meet Dylan’s chin as I pull his face down to meet the blow. Jett stands up straight again, murder in his eyes.
Fuck, it’s all gotten way out of hand. Marley is shouting the whole time and I know I’ve disappointed her. Fought back when I should have stood my ground. Will I ever fucking learn?
Soon enough, a neighbor is coming over and it's not someone asking for a cup of sugar. It's a goddamn sheriff, hand on his holster, anger in his eyes.
"The four of you stop it," he shouts. He’s an older man, but he looks Alaskan through and through. Grey beard, a gun on his hip, and leather boots on his feet.
I step back, lifting up my hands. Marley’s brothers do the same, but they're pissed. All four of us bloody and bruised. I'm going to have a goddamn shiner the size of a mountain on my eye, and my skull pounds. I'm sure these guys are feeling the same damn way.
"I'm telling you, get out of here," the sheriff shouts at me.
“Me? I didn't start this."
"Well, I'm finishing it," he tells me. "Marley, what are you doing with this man?"
Marley shakes her head. "God damn it, Price. Who do you think you are? I'm sick of the men in my life telling me what I can do."
"Do you know who he is?" Sheriff Price asks her. "This is Maker."
"I know who he is,” she tells him, crossing her arms.
But her brothers apparently don't quite understand who I am. “He's an ex-convict,” Price tells them. “He's a goddamn drug lord.”
“Like Father John?” Dylan asks.
“Who?” Jett’s eyes narrow.
“You remember him? Had that fucked up sex cult in the woods,” Gavin says.
“I had nothing to do with him,” I say, trying to defend myself.
“But you did flee California because you were a criminal,” the sheriff says, hatred for me in his eyes.
They grunt, understanding. "You’re still caught up in some shady shit, aren't you?" Gavin asks me.
"Not anymore,” I tell him. “I made a deal with the Feds and they’re off my back. I mean it. I'm a good man."
But Jett laughs. "A good man, huh? Who comes here after fucking our sister. Keeping her out all night, and then fighting us. Do you know who we are?"
I clench my jaw, refusing to say that they're the goddamn River Boys. Holier than thou. I won't give him the satisfaction. "Fuck you." I say, "Don't judge me. You don't even know me."
Tears streak Marley's cheeks. And I step toward her, but she shakes her head.
"No," she whispers. "It's too much. All of this, it's too much."
Sheriff Price looks at me. "You need to get the hell off this property and out of Riverside, you hear me?"
"I'm sorry, Maker," Marley says, shaking her head. "I didn't want it to end like this."
"Yeah," I say, wiping the blood from my mouth. "I didn't want it to end like this either, but I should have known it was all too good to be true." I give her one last look before walking away, my heart fucking hung out to dry. Tears burn my eyes, but I wipe them away before they can fall down my face. I won't let these assholes see me cry.
I walk back to the marina, to my boat. I board my boat and look out to the sea, knowing the trek back to the Whiskey Mountains is going to take me all damn day. Worst part is knowing there is nothing for me out in those woods. My property has nothing but a piece of shit cabin, empty land. There is no home waiting for me, I’ve built no life. I may have walked away from the criminal activity in Los Angeles, cleaned up, gotten sober — and I’m glad for that — but I miss having a reason to get up every day.
I want that again. Meaning. Purpose.
Marley.
But Marley deserves a man so much better than me. I hate myself for it. Truly hate myself for the first time
