Cross My Heart (The Devil's Riders 8.50)

Although to be fair, I was pretty sure it was only Drake who had acted like an idiot. He had an even bigger mouth than Lucky. Tank must have just reached his limit.

I’d never seen him snap before, but I had known it would happen someday. He was always so controlled. But I’d heard stories. And judging from how rough Drake was looking, the stories had been true.

Tank was a goddamned machine with his fists. He pummeled Drake’s side until he scrambled away, turned and leapt on the larger man. It was funny, now that I knew Jack wasn’t getting upset. Tank was a, well, tank, but Drake was fast on his feet and just as strong.

Of course, I had known Drake was no slouch either. He was a decorated solider. And the whole ‘not giving a shit about anything’ made him a very dangerous fighter. He was unpredictable and more than a little bit crazy. Both of them were.

You just had to scratch a bit deeper to see the crazy with Tank.

I glanced at Moose and Whiskey. They looked tired and more than a little beat up. As entertaining as this was, I realized it was only a matter of time before it got too serious to be amusing. I sighed. I was going to have to stop this before someone really got hurt.

“Got a blanket? Or a bucket of cold water?”

“Got both. How cold do you want it?” Jack asked with a grin.

“As cold as it can get,” I said. “If you want to do the honors…”

“Oh hell yes I do,” he said with a grin.

Then we got moving. I followed him around the barn as he gathered supplies. He handed me a thick wool army blanket and held up the pail, water splashing over the sides onto the polished concrete floor.

“After you,” I said, gesturing graciously towards the sweating, struggling idiots. He whistled a bit as he strolled over, his massive legs eating the ground in a handful of steps.

“One, two, three–”

A loud splash broke the near silence, followed by a yowl. But any sounds of protest were quickly smothered by the blanket I threw over them, then held them both down with the help of the other onlookers. Muffled curses were heard as bodies moved underneath our combined weight. After a few fruitless minutes of struggling they finally calmed the fuck down.

Then, and only then, did we pull the blanket free. We stood and glared down at them. Oh, if looks could kill, I thought to myself, hiding a smile. Tank was stone faced, blood pouring from his lip. Drake looked beat to hell. His nose was busted, for sure. It was gushing blood. Hell, most of his body was leaking the red stuff.

He stared at us, his eyes starting to go bloodshot.

And then he burst into laughter.

“You crazy fuck,” Moose said with an eye roll.

“Well, Goddamn,” Drake crowed. “That’s one way to get our attention.”

Jack shook his head. Moose let out a guffaw. Then Whiskey. I was laughing the while damned time. Even Jack’s shoulders were shaking.

“I learned that trick on the farm,” I said between chortles.

“What trick?” Tank asked, getting up with a grimace. I gave him my hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Cold water. That’s what we used when the dogs were fucking.”

That did it. Now everyone was laughing. Even Tank let out a snort. Jack bent forward. His laugh was so deep and low that it shook the ground. I felt it in my boots.

Drake hopped to his feet unassisted and grinned at me.

“See? Just what the doctor ordered.”

“What the hell are you talking about, dumbass?” Whiskey asked, but with a friendly grin. “You did not deliberately annoy Tank until he snapped. There is not way you could plan ahead like that.”

“That’s what you think. Everybody needs a little Drake in their life!” He sing songed, making us all burst into laughter again.

Jack held up his finger, and we all shut up. We listened. A baby was crying on the monitor. I had no idea which one it was, they had so damned many. We often joked that they were building a red headed army, or a small country of gingers.

“I’ll get it,” I said. The kids all knew me. I was Uncle Nick. My long hair made me a favorite. I had never met a child that didn’t want to tug on it. “You smell like booze anyway.”

He nodded and slapped my back. As always, a friendly pat from Jack was enough to send you to your knees. I didn’t stumble though. I was used to the big guy and his ‘love taps’.

And it was good to see him smiling, even if it had just been for a few minutes.

“Should I bring back some first aid shit?”

“I have some in here,” he said, stroking his chin. “But I’m tempted to let them bleed.”