told him in a voice made gravelly from years of cigarette smoke.
Julian shot Chris, Lou and Melissa a look when they began to laugh; Zach snickered beside him. “I’ve killed people for less,” he growled at the newcomer to their group from the corner of his mouth. Zach’s smile slipped away, he took an abrupt step away from Julian’s side.
The group of fighters scrambled to gather their unconscious friends and escape the poolroom. Julian took another step forward; a wave of the gun still aimed at his chest stopped him from going any further. He raised his hands in the air as he memorized the faces of every man scurrying past the guy with the gun. He wished Luther had decided to come out tonight instead of trying to do more research; he’d have been able to diffuse this situation far better than Julian could.
“Oh for crying out loud, Clint,” Quinn muttered as she stalked forward. “Put the gun down.”
“How do I know he didn’t start it; he looks like trouble,” Clint retorted.
“He didn’t start it,” Quinn told him. “And you’re thinking of Billy Idol. Not Billy Joel.”
“What’s the difference?”
“One is an eighties rocker that his look is definitely based on…”
“I told you this is all natural,” Julian retorted.
“The other sang Piano Man,” Quinn continued as if he’d never spoken.
“Oh.” Clint dropped his arms down and slid his gun into the holster at his side. “I like that song.”
“Most people do,” Quinn replied.
“Are you girls ok?” he demanded.
“We’re fine,” Quinn assured him.
His gaze went past her to Angie. “Fine,” she replied with a small smile.
“What happened here?” Clint inquired and pulled a piece of gum from his pocket. He shoved the gum into his mouth as his gaze traveled over Julian, Melissa, Chris, Lou, and Zach.
“Some townie kids trying to prove their might, pissed off some cowboys,” Quinn told him. “These guys were trying to help us break it up.”
Clint’s brown eyes searched over them before he gave a brisk nod. “Thanks for the help. You’ve earned yourselves a free drink. Can you clean this up, Quinn?”
“On it,” she assured him. She rested her hands on Clint’s small shoulders and turned him toward the main room. The people out there hastily became preoccupied with their alcohol and friends again when Clint’s eyes fell upon them. Julian stalked across the room as the last of the people involved in the fight scrambled out the door.
Pickup trucks, cars, and motorcycles were firing up as he pounded down the steps and into the dirt parking lot. His gaze ran over all the people jumping into their vehicles. Taking five giant strides forward, he grabbed the arm of a man trying to climb into a jacked up Jeep.
“Hey.” The kid’s voice was slurred due to his swollen jaw and missing front tooth, but Julian was already turning away from the flashes of beer helmets, girls and football the kid emitted.
He grabbed hold of a man with a cowboy hat next but swiftly turned away from the cubicle and computer that filled his mind. Dust kicked up around him as more vehicles fled the parking lot, he managed to grab hold of another kid, but all he saw were images of textbooks. He spun to try and find someone else only to discover he was now alone. The last pickup kicked up rocks and dust with a squeal of tires. One of the kids in the back of the truck swore at him before tossing a beer bottle his way. He jumped back as glass shattered around his feet and liquid splashed out over the bottom of his jeans.
There were times he really wished he were still a killer, he realized as he stepped away from the broken shards of glass.
Chris jogged up to his side. “What are you doing?”
Julian stared down the deserted road as the red taillights of the pickup faded into the distance. “One of the men involved in the fight is a killer.”
“So are you,” Zach said.
The look he gave the kid caused Zach to blanch. “They were
Julian shot Chris, Lou and Melissa a look when they began to laugh; Zach snickered beside him. “I’ve killed people for less,” he growled at the newcomer to their group from the corner of his mouth. Zach’s smile slipped away, he took an abrupt step away from Julian’s side.
The group of fighters scrambled to gather their unconscious friends and escape the poolroom. Julian took another step forward; a wave of the gun still aimed at his chest stopped him from going any further. He raised his hands in the air as he memorized the faces of every man scurrying past the guy with the gun. He wished Luther had decided to come out tonight instead of trying to do more research; he’d have been able to diffuse this situation far better than Julian could.
“Oh for crying out loud, Clint,” Quinn muttered as she stalked forward. “Put the gun down.”
“How do I know he didn’t start it; he looks like trouble,” Clint retorted.
“He didn’t start it,” Quinn told him. “And you’re thinking of Billy Idol. Not Billy Joel.”
“What’s the difference?”
“One is an eighties rocker that his look is definitely based on…”
“I told you this is all natural,” Julian retorted.
“The other sang Piano Man,” Quinn continued as if he’d never spoken.
“Oh.” Clint dropped his arms down and slid his gun into the holster at his side. “I like that song.”
“Most people do,” Quinn replied.
“Are you girls ok?” he demanded.
“We’re fine,” Quinn assured him.
His gaze went past her to Angie. “Fine,” she replied with a small smile.
“What happened here?” Clint inquired and pulled a piece of gum from his pocket. He shoved the gum into his mouth as his gaze traveled over Julian, Melissa, Chris, Lou, and Zach.
“Some townie kids trying to prove their might, pissed off some cowboys,” Quinn told him. “These guys were trying to help us break it up.”
Clint’s brown eyes searched over them before he gave a brisk nod. “Thanks for the help. You’ve earned yourselves a free drink. Can you clean this up, Quinn?”
“On it,” she assured him. She rested her hands on Clint’s small shoulders and turned him toward the main room. The people out there hastily became preoccupied with their alcohol and friends again when Clint’s eyes fell upon them. Julian stalked across the room as the last of the people involved in the fight scrambled out the door.
Pickup trucks, cars, and motorcycles were firing up as he pounded down the steps and into the dirt parking lot. His gaze ran over all the people jumping into their vehicles. Taking five giant strides forward, he grabbed the arm of a man trying to climb into a jacked up Jeep.
“Hey.” The kid’s voice was slurred due to his swollen jaw and missing front tooth, but Julian was already turning away from the flashes of beer helmets, girls and football the kid emitted.
He grabbed hold of a man with a cowboy hat next but swiftly turned away from the cubicle and computer that filled his mind. Dust kicked up around him as more vehicles fled the parking lot, he managed to grab hold of another kid, but all he saw were images of textbooks. He spun to try and find someone else only to discover he was now alone. The last pickup kicked up rocks and dust with a squeal of tires. One of the kids in the back of the truck swore at him before tossing a beer bottle his way. He jumped back as glass shattered around his feet and liquid splashed out over the bottom of his jeans.
There were times he really wished he were still a killer, he realized as he stepped away from the broken shards of glass.
Chris jogged up to his side. “What are you doing?”
Julian stared down the deserted road as the red taillights of the pickup faded into the distance. “One of the men involved in the fight is a killer.”
“So are you,” Zach said.
The look he gave the kid caused Zach to blanch. “They were
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