Crank (The Gibson Boys 1)

I can barely see straight and it has nothing to do with the two beers I drank. My body shakes so fucking bad, ready to break this asshole’s face for a second time. By the time I get to them, they see me coming.

Sienna sags against the wall, Tommy taking a giant step away from her.

“You okay?” I ask her before I even get there.

“Yes,” she sighs, looking at me with wide eyes.

“You,” I say, turning towards Tommy, “are not okay.”

“I had no idea she was with you—”

My fist slams into his mouth before he can even get his excuse out of his trap. The explosion is a perfect cross, shoving all the way through until my arm is extended with his face at the end.

Sienna gasps, her hand flying to her mouth, but wisely stays to the side next to Peck.

Tommy is crouched on the floor, one hand tapping at his mouth. He swipes a trail of blood down the side as Machlan shoves through the crowd and takes in the scene.

My muscles flex, ready to lunge forward and hit him again. Machlan positions himself so I’d have to go through him to do it.

“What the hell did you do now?” Machlan looks down at Tommy with no pity.

“Your brother fucking hit me! Did someone call the police?”

No one says a word, the song on the radio overhead wrapping up the only sound. Tommy looks around, getting to his feet. As he realizes everyone is watching, you can see the anger and humiliation building.

“You’re going down for this one,” Tommy snarls. “I’m calling the police.”

“You do that.” Sienna steps to my side, her head held high. “Call them. I’d love to talk to the Sheriff about how you grabbed my arm.”

“You little bitch—”

He doesn’t get that one out either before I rock him back with a left hook. His body weight twisting him around with the force of the punch, he lands again on his feet like a fucking cat.

“Tommy,” Machlan booms, “I’m going to suggest you get the hell out of here while you can walk. Because if you open your mouth again, it’ll be the last time for a while.”

“Fuck you and this hillbilly town.” Tommy spits a mouthful of blood on the floor. “Fuck all of you.”

The crowd parts as he storms through it, the front door smashing so hard it sounds like the glass breaks. It’s the trigger that gets everyone talking again. Before I know it, it’s just me, Sienna, and Machlan.

As the adrenaline settles, the blood shining in the light, I realize what I’ve done.

“Fuck,” I growl, so many things floating through my head that I can’t make sense of any of them. The only thing that clears them for a brief moment is Sienna touching my hand.

“This is swollen,” she says softly, holding my hand in both of hers. “Can we get him some ice, Machlan?”

“I’m fine,” I grumble.

“You aren’t fine.” She lifts my hand to inspect it, her eyes full of concern. Watching her trying to get a plan together to fix me makes me forget about all the pain.

“I gotta get this mess cleaned up,” Machlan breathes. “You okay, Sienna?”

“Yeah. He just grabbed me. I think he pinched a pressure point or something.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Machlan says before disappearing to the store room.

She’s right in front of me, her soft skin against mine. Kindness and worry about me, even though she was the one hurt, is all I see on her face.

Taking my hand away, even though my head screams inside not to, I lift her arm carefully. Her skin is smooth, a creamy white, and I’m relieved there are no bruises.

“I’m fine, Walker. Really.”

“It doesn’t hurt anywhere? You sure?” I run a hand down her arm, feeling for any lumps, watching for her to cringe. She doesn’t.

“I’m sure.”

Nodding, not trusting what will come out of my mouth, I place her arm back to her side.

“Thank you for doing that,” she gulps. “I don’t really know what to say. Just . . . thank you.”

“Yeah. No problem,” I say, exhaling roughly as the pain throbs up my wrist.

“I’m worried about you,” Sienna says, reaching for my hand again.

Letting myself give in for a split second, I touch the side of her face. She leans into it, her eyes filled with something I can’t put my finger on. Before I can do anything else, I flip her a nod and a tight smile and leave out the back door.

“THAT OUGHTA DO IT.” Machlan takes a step back and examines our handiwork. “Looks good to me.”

“I think it’s sturdy,” I note, gripping the edge of the gutter and giving it a shake with my good hand. The other is still swollen from Tommy’s face. “Yeah. That’s solid as shit.”