He palmed his keys as they were both backed into the large gated lot behind the building.
“Didn’t think that through very well, did you, asshole?” One of the skinheads, Mitch Spencer who led The Ravagers, stepped forward, gun in hand, tapping it against his cheek as he smirked at Lawson. “You planning to take us all on with your fancy fighting?” He pointed the gun at Lawson. “Send the kid back over here. We weren’t done with him.”
Ezran grabbed Lawson’s forearm, pressing close to his back and letting out a strangled sound. His wrists were cuffed and his whole body was shaking, but other than the black eye Lawson spotted briefly before they’d taken off down the stairs, he seemed fine. Lawson reached back and pressed his keys into Ezran’s side until the boy released him and took them.
All he needed now was the right opening.
“What do you want?” Lawson held Spencer’s gaze, half his focus on the closest threats he’d need to take down to give Ezran a chance to make a break for the car. Ten of the men would pose a challenge. The teens had the numbers, but they would go down easy. “You had him for a reason. Do you want money?”
Spencer chuckled. “We’ll have all the money we want when The Asylum is gone. One dead kid and the other as insurance should be enough to motivate you fuckers to clear out.”
Two guns. Five knives. A bat. He needed to disarm the men with the guns first without putting Ezran in the line of fire. “I’m not leaving without him.”
In the distance came the faint growl of a motorcycle before the sound cut off. Closer, the brush of carefully placed footsteps, almost completely silent. He doubted the gang members could hear either with their laughing and posturing, but he had to keep the leader’s attention until whoever had come was in position.
If Reed was with Doc, the older man would use his experience and training to their advantage. Curtis would be communicating with them and come in from the other side. He’d have grabbed his gun, but Lawson would do everything in his power to avoid him having to use it.
There was someone else, walking toward them, not trying to hide his movements.
Lawson glanced over, praying to the higher powers that it wasn’t Matt.
“What the fuck is going on here? Cliff, tell me you’re not part of this?” Jon stepped into sight, his expression pained as several teens moved to let him pass. “Let the boy go.”
Cliff, one of the bigger skinheads who was wearing a black shirt with the sleeves torn off, tightened his grip on his gun and snarled. “Get the fuck out of here, Jon. This ain’t none of your business.”
“Not my business? My friends got hurt because I told you the nights the club was opened. I lost fucking everything for you!” Jon strode up to Cliff and shoved him. “If you think I’m going to stand back and watch—”
Without warning, Jon grabbed the gun and snapped his hand down on Cliff’s wrist hard enough to shatter bone. He spun with a smooth sidekick to Cliff’s throat, dropping the man to his back, then diving to the side as the lead man turned his gun on Jon and fired.
Rushing forward, Lawson latched on to Spencer’s wrist, aiming the gun toward the sky as he delivered two swift kidney shots. The gun hit the ground. Lawson kicked it toward Ezran.
Another thug came at Lawson from behind. Stabbed at him with a knife, but Lawson twisted, forcing the blade to skim along his ribs rather than slip between them. He snapped his forearm down to block the next attempt.
The man spun abruptly, then flew back.
Curtis shot Lawson a cocky grin. “Miss me?”
Shaking his head with a laugh, Lawson turned, leaving Curtis to watch his back, catching the bat that was swung toward his head. He kicked the next man in the stomach, thrusting him back into the teen who was going after Reed with a butcher knife. They both went down and Reed ducked under a sloppy punch aimed at his head.
On one knee, Reed reached out and grabbed a fistful of the man’s balls through his baggy jeans, twisting so hard the man began gagging and screaming before stumbling back.
“Reed, get Ezran to my car!” Lawson gave his head a rough shake to clear the dizziness. His wounds wouldn’t let him fight for much longer, but he had to keep going until Ezran and Reed were away from here.
If they made it out, everything would be okay.
“He’s got him, Lawson.” Curtis snapped his fingers in Lawson face, jerking him to the side as a fist slammed into his shoulder. He nailed the next attacker with a roundhouse. “How bad are you hurt?”
Lawson’s lips slanted as he rolled his shoulders and faced the next charging thug. “I’ve had worse papercuts.”
Dodging a wildly swung knife, Curtis laughed. “You’re full of shit.”
A loud crack and both men who they were fighting fell. Doc set the bat on his shoulder, shaking his head at Curtis and Lawson before swiveling to catch a thug in the gut. “Noah didn’t teach you two to keep your mouths shut until the fight is over?”
The mention of Noah immediately sobered Lawson and he threw himself into cutting down his next opponents with swift efficiency. Sirens in the distance had several of the teens taking off, but the gang’s numbers were still great enough that the four of them couldn’t last much longer against the repeated attacks.
Separated from Doc, Curtis, and Lawson by a press of bodies, Jon let out a pain-filled grunt. Doc used the bat he’d claimed to clear a path to him. By Lawson’s side, Curtis blocked another knife, but was struck in the side of the skull with a rock in the hand of a teen who’d snuck into his blind spot.
Curtis dropping hard spiked Lawson’s adrenaline. He lunged forward, slamming through the three men raining fists down on him.
Spencer grabbed Curtis’s gun from his belt and straightened, finger on the trigger.
Lawson tackled the gang leader, kneeing him in the stomach as he grappled for the gun.
A car beeping wildly turned both their heads.
“Move out of the way! Coming through!” Reed drove into the lot, laughing as The Ravagers threw themselves out of the path of the car. “I eat nazi roadkill for dinner, motherfuckers!”
Snapping his elbow into the side of Spencer’s head, Lawson stunned him and grabbed the gun. He pinned Spencer to the asphalt, foot on the center of his chest.
Leveled the gun at the man’s head.
“Fuck, don’t shoot. Stand down, boys!” The gang leader shouted and every thug in the lot who was still fighting immediately backed off. Spencer met Lawson’s gaze with a hard one of his own. “You win. This time.”
This time… It would never end. This bastard would keep coming after the people Lawson loved. He’d always be a threat to Ezran. To every member of The Asylum. Including Matt.
He’d tried to kill Matt’s brother.
Lawson put his finger on the trigger.
“Lawson, look at me.” Curtis came to his side slowly, swiping at the spill of blood trailing from the gash in his head and down his cheek. “The cops just pulled up. They’ll arrest these assholes. Kidnapping and attempted murder will have them put away for a long time.”
Lawson clenched his jaw. “This would be forever.”
“And then you’d be in a cell right next to Noah.” Curtis put a hand on Lawson’s shoulder. “Don’t let them take away anyone else from us, man. I can’t do this shit without you. Fucking your boyfriend would be fun and all, but I’d get tired of hearing how much he needs you.”
“Matt…” Lawson shook his head. “I hurt him.”
Curtis’s eyes narrowed. “Then we’ll be having a chat. Don’t be a fucking punk and make me do it during prison visiting hours.”
Inhaling a deep, calming breath, Lawson nodded and stepped back, letting Curtis take the gun. The police stormed the lot, shouting for everyone to get down. One officer motioned for Lawson and Curtis to join Doc and Jon on the other side of the car before leaning in to ask Ezran if he was okay.
“I’m the one who called this in.” Doc stepped up to the officer, then jutted his thumb at Lawson. “He�
�s going to the hospital with the boys before he bleeds out.” He pointed at Curtis. “This one’s getting his head checked.” Then Jon. “He will stay with me and answer any questions you have.”
The officer’s brow rose. “Sir, that’s not—”
“You took so long to get here you almost got my boys here killed. Do you plan to keep stalling and finish the job?” Doc’s tone rose, sharpening with every word. “I’m a goddamn doctor and I’m telling you they need to get to the hospital. You’re not grilling the child without his guardian. Lawson’s his guardian. You need more from them, get it when he’s out of fucking surgery.”
Lawson shook his head. “I don’t need surgery.”
Doc gave him a withering glare. “There’s no exit wound from that bullet hole. You think the bullet’s going to come out in its own sweet time?”
Arm around Lawson’s shoulders, Curtis nudged him toward the backseat of the car. “This is where you nod and smile and get to the hospital before Doc gets there and convinces whoever’s on staff to let him dig out the bullet himself.”
That...would be wise.
He got in the car without further objection, sliding over so Curtis could get in beside him. Glancing out the window, he caught Spencer’s eye as he was muscled to the back of a squad car. The promise of vengeance he found there didn’t faze him, but then the man’s gaze shifted to Ezran and he smirked.
Grabbing the door handle, Lawson moved to get out of the damn car and finish what he’d started. Pressure right on his bullet wound sent a shock of pain slicing through his arm. He released the handle. Glanced over at Curtis who patted his arm one last time with a pointed expression on his face, shrugged, and rested his head against the back of the seat as Reed pulled the car onto the road.
The man was right about not needing anyone else in jail, but prison wouldn’t stop The Ravager’s leader from exacting his revenge. “We’re going to regret letting him live.”
“Maybe…” Curtis tipped his head to the side, toward Lawson, grimacing as though the motion hurt. “Or maybe we’ll do exactly what they’re afraid of. More businesses are opening up in the area and the punks won’t mess with places when anyone from The Asylum is around—” He held up his hand before Lawson could speak. “I don’t accept money for it anymore, so relax. Wasn’t like I was ever extorting any of them. They offered to pay for protection.”
This was the very subject that had led to the fight between them, almost eighteen months ago. They’d come to blows, right in the fucking bar when Ezran had been about to come in from school. He’d seen them and turned around.
Walked right into the hands of the gang who dragged him off before the bullets began to fly. Ten members of the club had been outside, chilling out. Three died.
“I should’ve fucking listened to you.” Curtis sighed and brought a hand up to his blood-slicked face. “Didn’t seem like a big deal, but you were right. None of those people, the restaurant owners, the store owners, should have to pay anyone to make sure they’re not getting robbed every goddamn week. I thought it would be a good business move—you and Noah always brought in the majority of cash for everything. I’m only partial owner of the club because Noah let me pay my share over five fucking years.”
“You’ve worked as hard as anyone, Curtis. Even without the money, The Asylum would belong to you.” Lawson eased himself back against the seat, clenching his teeth at the ripping ache in his side. Damn it, he was a mess. “You were there when the warehouse was gutted, getting your hands dirty.”
Curtis let out a soft laugh. “You and Noah always liked me dirty.”
That brought a wry grin to Lawson’s lips. Which faded as he glanced over at the man he’d finally come to consider a friend. “Do you regret it?”
Brow furrowing slightly, Curtis slit his eyes open. “What? Dumping your moody ass or asking Noah for a real relationship and getting turned down?”
“You and I were never dating.”
“Close enough.” Curtis lifted his shoulders. “We were always at each other’s throats, trying to prove who was top dog. Stupid shit. Fucking glad that’s over.” He drew in a careful inhale. “You were my best friend even when you hated me and you don’t anymore. We just needed to figure out how to get here. I love what we’ve got, okay?”
From the driver’s seat, Reed let out a soft, “Aww.”
“Careful, Sparkles. You’ve been pushing it lately. You’re lucky I’m broken.” Curtis touched the swelling flesh under the wound with a wince. “Or I’d make it so you’d have to sleep standing up.”
Ezran groaned and put his hands over his ears. Started singing a song about a baby shark.
Noah, we’ve ruined your boys.
At the hospital, Lawson was immediately taken from the ER once he’d changed into a hospital gown and was prepped for surgery. The rest of the night passed in a blur, anesthesia and pain meds stealing most of it. He woke in spurts, ready to take a swing if anyone came close, but Doc pressed him back to the bed every time, using his most calming tone until Lawson drifted off to sleep.
“Matt?”
Doc patted Lawson’s arm. “Soon. Let’s see if you can rest long enough to convince yourself the battle is won.”
“I hurt him.”
“And he grabbed you.” Doc made a shushing sound as Lawson shook his head. “Don’t try to fool me, boy. Remember who took care of you because you didn’t want the bastard who fucked you up to find you at the hospital again. If you haven’t told Matt what was done to you, then you damn well fix that. Trust me, he’ll understand.”
“That I’m no different than Vincent?”
Cursing under his breath, Doc shook his head. “You stopped, Lawson. That’s the difference. When you’re in the ring, when you’ve got your sub tied up, there’s always an out. A choice. You know damn well a power exchange isn’t the same as abuse.”
“It is when I lash out at him in anger.”
Doc inclined his head. “It would be, but you didn’t. You reacted out of fear.”
Head cleared, Lawson opened his eyes. Through the slight part in the curtains, he could see the sky lightening as dawn approached. The thin blue blanket covering him, along with his hospital gown, had twisted around the top of one leg, leaving the other exposed. He pushed against the bed to sit up, reaching down to straighten them.
Gentle hands brushed his aside, tugging the material straight and adjusting the blanket. He looked up and met Matt’s eyes.
“Hey.”
Matt smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”
The night had been hard on Matt. Dark circles and red blotches under his eyes and on his cheeks showed he hadn’t slept at all and had probably been crying. His hair was sticking up in all directions, as though he’d been tugging at it. The grey shirt he wore, which fit nice and snug over his shoulders, giving a faint outline of his solid chest and abs, had blood stains on it.
Still, he was the most perfect thing Lawson had ever seen.
I should let him go. Or make him leave. He deserves fucking better than any life I could offer.
He shook his head at himself and reached for the glass of water on his tray. Took a few small sips.
He deserves a choice.
“Matt… I need to tell you something, and you need to hear me out. Before you decide anything.”
“Lawson—”
“Don’t interrupt me.” Out of habit, Lawson used the tone Matt always responded to. He curved his lips, pleased when his man immediately closed his mouth and nodded, even though he couldn’t say so now. He needed to share this as partners, not as his Dom. “I met Noah at this hospital, ten years ago. He was visiting his mother. I was getting x-rays on my arm because it had been badly damaged.” He took a slow, measured breath. “By my boyfriend at the time, Vincent.”
Lips pressed together, Matt visibly struggled not to speak, but his eyes flashed with rage.
“I didn’t have an out until that day. After my father disowned me, I relied on f
riends for a place to sleep. Meeting Vincent, having a home, a job, and a man who wanted me, seemed like everything I could ever ask for. I’d done some Jiu Jitsu in highschool and I knew how to fight, so the first time Vincent hit me, I hit him back, assuming I had every right.” Lawson pressed his eyes shut. “He told me I ever did that again I’d be out on the streets. Said I was ungrateful. I believed him.” He sighed. “Things weren’t always bad. I worked in his shop, taking cars apart. I learned fast and I loved it. It was different from the life I’d grown up in. My father is a filthy rich politician and I was his youngest son. I’d never wanted for anything except attention and freedom. Suddenly, I had both. Or the illusion of it, in any case.”
Lifting the glass to his lips, he took another gulp, shaking his head at Matt’s questioning gaze.
“Not yet.” He set the glass aside. “I found out the cars I was stripping were stolen. I refused to work on another one. That time he used a wrench and beat me so bad, I thought he’d kill me. He gave me some time to heal, but every morning, as the work I wasn’t able to do began costing him more and more, he’d wake me up with his fingers digging into one of the bruises he’d caused. I’d grab myself a cup of coffee and he’d shove me, making it spill on me. Tell me to clean it up and stop whining about the pain.”
Chewing on his bottom lip, Matt glanced at his freshly bandaged forearm.
Lawson’s lips twisted. “Yes, my time with him left me with some bad habits. And many scars, most of which you can’t see. But that’s why I thought about ending things with you. Forcing you to leave The Asylum for good.”
“Lawson, what the—”
“I’m not going to do that. You have a choice, Matt. You know the potential danger of remaining at The Asylum. I meant what I said when I told you I’d never hurt you out of anger, but...the way I reacted when you grabbed my arm was still wrong.” He rubbed his hand over his lips. Lowered it and met Matt’s eyes, needing to know he understood. This choice meant more than how he felt about Matt or how Matt felt about him, but he was done holding anything back. Matt had to know the truth. “I love you too much to risk hurting you.”
Flawed Justice Page 28
