Getting Rowdy

Narrowing his gaze, Rowdy waited—and heard the drunk’s breathing even out. “No way.” He nudged the guy, but only got a snuffling groan that went back into a near snore. Rowdy shot to his feet. “Goddamn it.”

“I take it you wanted more sport?”

Jerking around, Rowdy found himself facing three other guys. This group was younger than the first, physically fit and from all appearances, clearheaded.

A slow smile lifted his mouth.

Maybe he’d get the fight he wanted after all.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE YOUNG MAN who’d spoken smiled right back. Watching the drunks retreat, he said, “Relax, man. We’re innocent bystanders, just taking in the show.” Stance relaxed, he shrugged. “Not that there was all that much to see.”

“Unfortunately.” Rowdy did a quick evaluation. This guy looked to be early twenties, maybe six-two. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt, with a stocking cap pulled over his hair.

The worn clothes didn’t hide a ripped physique.

The smile showed confidence, and maybe even amusement, which meant he wasn’t worried about handling himself.

The two behind him looked more ragtag, and while also fit, more on the average side. One of them held a cola can and an expression of boredom. The other crossed his arms over his chest in a show of antagonism.

They weren’t intimidated by the pathetic beat down they’d just witnessed, and why should they be?

Rowdy hoped like hell that Avery stayed put in the apartment building. “Out for an evening stroll, huh?”

Cockiness widened his smile even more. “Something like that.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and nudged aside a broken bottle with the toe of his shoes. “Loudmouths and litterbugs. What’s the world coming to?”

Poverty had carved false daring into many personalities, maybe even his own. Rowdy would disabuse the young men of any forward intent right now. “They can be as loud as they want, and trash the place for all I care. But they won’t—”

“Go near the lady? Yeah, I got that.” He looked over his shoulder at his pals. “You guys mind picking up these bottles? Some kid will come through here and shred his feet.”

To Rowdy’s surprise, the backup came forward and began picking up broken glass.

“I’m Cannon Colter.” The talker gestured with his shoulder to the apartment building. “You live around here?”

The door to the apartment squeaked like a horror movie when Avery tried to sneak it open. Shit, shit, shit. Should he lie? Should he say he was with Avery each night to deter any thoughts of bugging her?

Cannon leaned forward. “We don’t do that, so relax.”

Feeling like an unscripted extra in a very bad play, Rowdy said, “Do what?”

“Hassle women.” Cannon shook his head. “Not our thing.”

“So what is your thing?”

He withdrew a little, looking up at the lightening sky, then the convenience store, before giving Rowdy a direct stare. “We grew up here. I hate seeing those creeps foul the place up more than it already is.”

“Is that so?”

“And I have a little sis.” He lifted his brows as if that explained everything.

Being a big brother himself, Rowdy supposed it did. Cannon—and here he thought Rowdy was an odd name—didn’t want his sister bothered by the scum. He dared a quick glance back, but luckily, even though Avery had poked her head out the door, she’d stayed inside as he’d...asked. Okay, so it’d been more of an order. He’d apologize for that as soon as he got this wrapped up.

Cannon looked at Avery, too. “Sorry, man, but she sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She’s gonna draw drunks like flies to manure.”

Glad that Avery hadn’t caught that comment, Rowdy fought off a grin. He could only imagine how she’d react if she heard that particular comparison. “Yup.”

“You’re the first guy she’s brought here.”

Good info, even if it wasn’t any of his business. “You noticed?”

“I pay attention.” His brows lifted. “And she’s pretty noticeable.”

Rowdy couldn’t help but be curious. “How long has she lived here?”

“About a year or so. Something like that.”

“She’s always on the lookout, too,” another offered.

“Yeah. She is,” said the smallest of the three, which didn’t really make him small. “She’s real cautious.”

Rowdy would call that smart, given the area. “Have you actually seen anyone bother her?”

“Nah, but if you want, we can keep an eye out.”

Cannon grinned. “She keeps that li’l bottle of pepper spray in her hand and she mean mugs anyone who looks her way.”

“You?”

Cannon lifted both hands. “Not me. We already settled that, right? But I’ve seen other dudes looking her over.”

Rowdy scowled. It took him less than three seconds to make up his mind. Pulling out his wallet, he took out three twenties, one for each of them, with an equal number of business cards for the bar. His cell was listed below the bar number.

Holding out the bills and cards, he said, “Think of this as a down payment. You ever see anyone bothering her, call either of the numbers. Ask for Rowdy. I’ll pay you for the trouble.”

The temperature dropped about ten degrees in Cannon’s expression. “Keep your money.” He took all three cards. “I don’t need to be paid not to be an asshole.”

Slowly, Rowdy withdrew the offered bills. “All right.” He’d rather bust his knuckles on a hardheaded bully than insult an honest man’s pride. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“Forget it.” He studied the card. “You’re Rowdy? As in the owner of the bar?”

“You know it?”

“I know you kicked a bunch of dope dealers to the curb when you took over.” He met his gaze. “Appreciate that.”