Starla had given this guy the time of day? This wasted piece of trash? She’d been knowingly coming to hang out here?
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one daydreaming of violence. His ally advanced on Max, and though from his angle Jared couldn’t see the expression on Ghost’s face, it must have been a horror to behold. Max backtracked immediately, stumbling over a table behind him and sending bottles rolling. He windmilled his arms trying to keep his balance, failed, and managed to catch himself on the table just before his ass met the floor.
“Dudes, what’s going on?” Swat had appeared in the door frame behind them.
“Get out of here,” Ghost said, his voice shaking with fury. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“It’s my house—”
“And when in the fuck have you ever cared?” He cut his dark eyes to Jared. “Call them.” Jared reached into his back pocket for his phone, but that got both guys’ attentions. Max and Swat began babbling over each other.
“Who?”
“Call who, man? The fucking cops? Don’t get the fucking cops out here, man.”
“We’re only doing our civic duty. And I’m going to assume,” Ghost began slowly, dangerously, his piercing eyes leveled on Swat, “that you didn’t realize this is the piece of shit who tried to do Brian in when you started harboring him.”
“Wh…what?”
“Bullshit!” Max exploded, launching himself across the room at Ghost. While Ghost was obviously perfectly capable of taking care of himself, Jared caught Max and wrenched one arm up behind his back, taking great pleasure in slamming him into the wall—which obviously didn’t feel good on Max’s broken nose. The guy howled.
“I wouldn’t move if you want to keep that arm,” Ghost said conversationally. “This motherfucker here rides bulls for fun. I doubt a sack of shit like you can throw him off.”
Jared couldn’t resist giving his arm an extra wrench to punctuate those words, thinking of Starla, thinking of her fear, her pain, her guilt, her shame…and Brian, lying in the hospital trying not to die when he should have been at home with his new family… Jared almost didn’t realize he was increasing the pressure until Max’s inane jabbering formed into words. “Okay, man, okay, okay! Stop, you’re breaking my fucking arm—”
“Oh, it hurts?” Ghost asked conversationally, thrusting his face close to Max’s. “Did you think about how much it hurt when you stuck a knife in Brian’s fucking back? Huh? Did you?”
“What was it for?” Jared demanded, barely recognizing his own voice. “Starla? She hates your goddamn guts. I picked her up when you threw her out of the car. If you wanted to kill the one she loves, asshole, you should’ve come for me.”
Except for his wild panting, Max was silent.
“Something tells me you wouldn’t have been too successful at that either,” Ghost said. He caught Jared’s eye. “You good?”
“I can stay here all night.”
“Let’s end this shit.” Ghost plucked his phone from his hoodie pocket and began to dial.
Chapter Twenty-five
Dawn streaked the sky by the time he trudged up his front steps sore and exhausted, but he barely noticed the colors or the still mist in the air. The police had come and hauled Max away for questioning, but Jared had little doubt there would be charges to follow—the guy was cracking. Apparently, he wasn’t such a badass after all; he’d been sobbing when they put him in the police car. Swat had been as meek as a kitten, swearing innocence about knowing Max was wanted. Ghost and Jared had hung around answering questions themselves and stoically enduring their ass chewing for taking matters into their own hands this way. In the end, they were released. It had been worth it.
Jared might have been imagining it, but he thought he’d seen a grim respect in Ghost’s eyes as they shook on a mission well accomplished and parted ways. If Ghost was a perceptive guy, he would’ve seen the same thing in Jared’s. Ghost had stood to lose a lot too because of Max’s stupidity. Hopefully, he would have some peace now—and having Macy at home waiting for him would certainly help with that.
Starla came running and threw herself into Jared’s arms as soon as he opened the door. He’d been texting her the events, but he hadn’t wanted her to come down there.
“Oh God!” she said, so soft in his arms and smelling of coffee and that peachy scent that was entirely Starla. “I’ve been watching from up here. I could see the flashing lights but not much else. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”
He buried his face in her hair, his muscles shaking on the verge of collapse. Yeah, he might ride bulls for fun, but he’d held Max immobile for so long, had been so keyed up on the edge of bursting, he felt as if he could sleep for days. His dad would just have to forgive him again. No damn way was he going to work today.
“Are you okay?” she went on, pulling back to look at him and stroking his hair. She was beautiful. “Do you need anything? Name it.”
“A shower. Sleep.”