Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  I knew he wasn’t angry at me, but the rage in his face was terrifying. I’d never seen him look like this before.

  “Asher, I don’t think—”

  “Give me the fucking keys, Grace.” He pressed his lips together and glanced away for a second. “Sorry. Please give me the keys.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No—”

  It was my turn to hold him with a hard stare. “Yes, I am.”

  He acquiesced with a slight nod and I tossed him my car keys.

  I didn’t ask where we were going or why. I already knew. So it was no surprise when we pulled up in front of the Timberbeast Tavern. It was the Havens’ equivalent to the Caboose, the place where people on that side of the feud hung out. I’d never been inside.

  It was also no surprise when Levi’s SUV screeched to a stop next to us and he and Logan got out, nor when Gavin drove up seconds later. Evan’s motorcycle roared as he parked next to Gavin. He must have driven fast to get here so quickly.

  “Is this a joke?” Logan slammed his truck door shut. “Because this better be a fucking joke.”

  Asher tossed the license plate at him.

  Logan’s eyes widened and he showed it to Levi.

  Evan popped his knuckles, his eyes narrowing. Even Gavin looked pissed, and almost nothing made him mad.

  This was going to be bad.

  “Hold on, boys,” I said, holding up my hands. “You guys can’t just walk in there and start hitting people.”

  “The fuck we can’t,” Logan said, tossing the license plate back to Asher. “They took it too far this time.”

  Oh no.

  Asher led the way, bursting into Timberbeast with his brothers right behind him. Feeling helpless, I followed them in. I didn’t know what I was going to do if this got ugly—and it sure looked like it would—but I couldn’t wait outside and do nothing.

  Timberbeast had a similar shabby quality to the Caboose, although instead of railroad décor, it was filled with vintage logging photos, axes, and old business signs. A giant saw was mounted on one wall and a faded Haven Timber Company sign hung in the lobby. The Timberbeast logo, a cartoon drawing of a burly, bearded, hairy-chested logger with a huge ax, greeted people as they walked in.

  Our abrupt entrance made the entire bar go silent. It was like something out of a movie. I half expected to hear a record scratch, which was such a weird thing to think when we might be seconds away from a full-on bar fight.

  Several of the Haven brothers were indeed here. Josiah and Luke stood near the bar and Zachary sat at a table with a few other people. Unfortunately, I didn’t see their sister, Annika. I didn’t know her very well, but there was a chance another female voice could help calm this situation before it got out of hand. As far as I knew, none of the Haven brothers had wives or serious girlfriends, so with no sister in sight, I didn’t see any potential allies.

  Luke squared his shoulders and his eyes narrowed, full of hostility. Josiah’s posture was less aggressive, but his confidence was undisguised as he watched Asher and his brothers walk in. Zachary leaned back in his chair, a half-grin on his face, like he found five Bailey men walking into his bar mildly amusing.

  This was their territory and it showed.

  Asher tossed the license plate on the floor near Josiah and Luke’s feet. It landed with a metallic clink.

  “This was too far, you pieces of shit.”

  Luke’s upper lip twitched. He reminded me of a growling dog being held back on a leash, anxiously awaiting the moment his owner’s hand would slip and he’d be free to surge forward and attack.

  I moved closer to Asher.

  Josiah scoffed. “We didn’t start this.”

  Asher took a step forward. “Maybe not, but we’re going to finish it.”

  Several more men stood from their chairs and stools, squaring off with the Baileys. Zachary stayed where he was.

  “Let’s take it outside, then.” Luke’s eyes were fixed on Evan.

  Josiah put a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “What the fuck were you assholes thinking?” Logan asked.

  Zachary put a hand to his mouth to suppress a laugh.

  “You think this is funny?” Gavin started to surge toward him, but Levi grabbed him before he could pounce.

  Josiah took a step. “You guys seriously want to brawl over this?”

  Asher started to move but I put a hand on his chest. “Josiah, what the hell? They put stickers on street signs and you destroy their grandad’s truck? What did you expect was going to happen?”

  “What are you, the Bailey ambassador now?”

  Asher growled, clenching his fists, and I threw myself in front of him.

  “Stop!”

  Zachary started laughing again and this time Levi let Gavin go. He lunged at Zachary, pushing an empty chair out of the way so it clattered to the ground.

  “Hold on,” Zachary said, jumping out of his seat and retreating toward the bar. He held his hands up. “The truck’s fine. We didn’t crush it.”

  Gavin didn’t stop stalking him.

  “What?” Asher asked, his voice dangerously low.

  “We didn’t crush the truck. It’s out on the old forestry service road. We broke in, put it in neutral, and towed it out there. All we did is hide it and take the license plate off. Calm down, you fuckin’ psychos.”

  “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down,” Gavin said.

  “Gavin, please.” I turned to Josiah. “Is that true?”

  “Of course it’s true,” he said. “Their shitty truck is fine.”

  I started to breathe out a sigh of relief, but the tension in the bar only heightened. I kept my body squarely in front of Asher, my back against his chest. I could feel the rage pouring through him. Gavin twitched, like he was two seconds from jumping Zachary, regardless of what they’d actually done to the truck. Evan and Luke stared each other down, a fierce hatred burning in their eyes.

  “Let’s go get the truck,” I said, not sure which of the Baileys I was really talking to. Maybe if one of them broke the standoff, the rest would follow.

  I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be Asher.

  “Come on, you guys, let’s go. If they’re lying… I don’t know. But let’s not do this right now.”

  Asher moved closer again, forcing me forward in front of him. “Get your shit off my girl’s property. I want it gone.”

  Luke snarled but Josiah’s expression remained impassive. “We’ll get to it.”

  “Now,” Asher said through gritted teeth.

  “I said we’ll get to it, Bailey.”

  “How about I break your other arm,” Asher said.

  I braced my feet against Asher’s push, knowing I couldn’t stop him if he decided to go after Josiah and Luke. I just hoped my body in front of his was enough of a deterrent. I couldn’t let this happen. “This was low, you guys. It wasn’t funny.”

  “Seriously?” Zachary asked. “It’s fuckin’ hilarious. You guys have no sense of humor.”

  “That truck means something, dumbass,” I shot back. “You guys still have your grandparents, and your parents. Stuff like this is off limits, and you know it.”

  “Where’s the rule book?” Zachary asked. “Or did you just make that up?”

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Asher growled.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” My patience was gone. “Why make this ugly? Don’t you have enough shit to deal with in your own lives without being assholes for no reason? So they put up a bunch of stickers. So what? You guys did it on the big town signs. And before that, we did something ridiculous, and before that it was you. Who cares? It wasn’t hurting anyone. But this was personal. You guys should have known better.”

  For a second, no one moved. Silence hung in the air.

  Gavin caught my eye and nodded. He turned for the door, like he was satisfied. I glanced back and saw Levi and Logan shoot glares around the room before turning to follow Gav.
>
  Leaning against Asher, I turned my head and lowered my voice. “Let’s go.”

  He took a step back, so I crouched down to pick up the license plate. Evan backed toward the door slowly, his eyes never leaving Luke Haven. Luke glared back.

  Silently hoping no one would speak—if any of them so much as breathed wrong, all hell could break loose—I made sure Asher’s brothers got out the door. He tried to guide me in front of him, but I took his hand so he couldn’t turn around after I’d gotten outside.

  Going back in there alone would have been dangerous and stupid. A rational Asher would have known that. But right now, I didn’t trust him to be rational. Not with the tension coming off him, the rage burning in his eyes.

  He stopped next to my car and stared at the door, like he was contemplating going back in. His hands twitched and the muscles in his arms flexed.

  “Let’s go get the truck,” Gavin said, his voice casual. He seemed to have let go of his anger already. “If they so much as scratched it, we can come back and fuck shit up.”

  One by one, they all got in their vehicles. Evan’s motorcycle roared to life and he sped away. Logan and Levi pulled out onto the street, followed by Gavin.

  Finally, Asher got in my car. I climbed in, feeling anxious and jumpy from all the adrenaline flooding my system. I stared at the dashboard. I couldn’t even look at Asher.

  My heart beat uncomfortably fast. That had almost turned into a bar fight. And the last time Asher had gotten into a fight in a bar…

  I swallowed back a choking sob that threatened to overtake me. I didn’t want to do anything to make this worse, and if he thought I was hurt or upset, it might spark his rage. So I held it in, pushing it deep into the pit of my stomach.

  But the fear was overwhelming. If Asher got in a fight and was arrested… or worse, if the fight went terribly wrong…

  I couldn’t live through that again.

  34

  Asher

  We found Grandad’s truck hidden out on the forest service road, a dirt road that went up into the hills, popular with dirt bikers and teenagers looking for a place to make out. True to their word, they hadn’t damaged it—just removed the license plate. But rage still churned hot in my gut. Whether they’d damaged it or not, they’d stolen my truck. And Grace was right—the prank was too personal.

  I had too much anger and aggression rippling through me. I wanted to hit someone—preferably a Haven. To fight until my knuckles were bloody.

  The urge was almost overwhelming. It scared me.

  So I didn’t go back to Grace’s house. I’d never hurt her—not in a million years. But I still didn’t trust myself to be around her right now. I’d probably wind up snapping at her, and despite how out of control I felt, I had enough presence of mind to know I didn’t want to do that. She deserved better.

  I was also smart enough not to go back down to the Timberbeast. Or go looking for the Havens. I really fucking wanted to. But I didn’t.

  Instead I drove out to the lake and sat in the bed of the truck, hoping the quiet and solitude would help me calm down.

  I still wanted to hit someone. I flexed my hands into fists and idly knocked my knuckles against the metal of the truck. Not hard enough to injure myself. Just hard enough so I could feel something else. Something other than rage.

  Eventually, I went home to Gram’s. I had a worried text from Grace, asking if I was okay. I let her know I was fine, I just needed to be alone. Thankfully, she seemed to understand.

  I woke up the next morning feeling calmer. More even. I was still pissed at the Havens for what they’d done, but I didn’t feel like I was one step away from punching a hole in a wall.

  Although if they hadn’t gotten that block of fucking metal out of Grace’s yard, I’d revisit my resolve not to get violent with those dicks.

  Thinking of Grace, I sent her a text.

  Me: Morning. I have to work today. Call you when I’m done. Miss you.

  Grace: I miss you too. How are you feeling?

  Me: Better. I’ll be fine.

  Grace: Good. I have to work too so I’ll see you tonight. Love you.

  Me: I love you too.

  Gram was out feeding her chickens when I came downstairs. If she’d heard about the Havens’ prank yesterday, she didn’t say anything. I left with promises that I’d finish her new chicken enclosure soon and went to work.

  I was busy enough that the day went by fast. Jobs were still coming in—more than enough to keep me busy—but I was growing increasingly restless. I didn’t mind the work, but it wasn’t exactly fulfilling, either. I’d always been a goal-oriented guy—once I’d matured enough to realize how much I needed to be, at least. Even though I was making money, it wasn’t giving me a sense of purpose beyond getting paid.

  I still lacked direction. If I kept doing what I was doing indefinitely, I’d do okay for myself. Maybe grow it into a larger business. Hire some employees. And there was nothing wrong with that. People needed guys like me to build their fences and fix their porch swings and install new windows.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  It was late afternoon when I finished up, and the first thing I did was text Grace. I felt depleted, like I was running on empty and I needed her to fill me up again. She was stuck at work dealing with a minor emergency—one of their refrigerators had died, so she was waiting on the repair guy and trying to decipher the warranty paperwork. Fixing refrigerators was not in my skill set, so I told her I’d bring her some dinner later if she wasn’t finished yet.

  When I got home, I saw Elijah sitting outside by himself. He’d been coming over most afternoons or evenings so I could teach him some grappling moves, and he’d been picking it up quickly. I was proud of the kid. I didn’t know whether it was making a difference in his confidence—he still moped around with his head down most of the time—but I hoped eventually it would.

  He didn’t come over when he saw me, so I went inside to change. When I came downstairs, he was still sitting out there. We weren’t planning on grappling today. I’d worked him pretty hard for the last several days, and even young kids needed rest. But maybe something was wrong. I went outside and wandered across the grass between our houses to find out.

  “Hey, bud. What’s going on?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  I wasn’t sure if I believed him, but I decided not to push. Yet. I might be able to get him talking if we were doing something else.

  “So I’ve been building a new chicken enclosure for Gram. There’s still plenty of daylight left. Want to help me make some progress?”

  He shrugged again. “Okay.”

  We veered through the shop to grab some tools and supplies. I gave him a tool belt to wear and we went out back.

  He was such a smart kid. Every time I taught him something new, whether it was a grappling move or how to use a tool, he picked it up fast. Despite his quiet and often standoffish demeanor, he seemed to soak up the attention I gave him. He was lonely, and I knew it wasn’t Naomi and Jack’s fault. I had no reason to believe they ignored him. Hell, I’d seen Jack trying to engage with him plenty of times. What I didn’t know was why Elijah resisted him so hard. If Elijah needed someone, and Jack was reaching out, why weren’t they connecting?

  We worked in silence for a while. He didn’t offer anything and I took a page from Grandad’s book and didn’t talk right away. He helped me stake out the perimeter for the new enclosure and we hauled some of the scrap wood I was going to use, stacking it nearby.

  I watched him from the corner of my eye. Maybe martial arts could be a way for him and Jack to bond. I liked hanging out with him, but I could see how strained his relationship was with both his mom and stepdad. I wondered if he knew Jack worked out at the MMA gym downtown. Maybe they’d never talked about it.

  “How are things with Jack?”

  Elijah shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Di
d he ever do something to make you not like him?”

  His brow furrowed, like he was surprised—maybe even confused—by my question. “No. He’s fine.”

  “That’s good. He seems like a decent guy.”

  “My mom likes him.”

  I chuckled. “That’s also good. She deserves it. You know, he trains at the MMA gym in town. I’ve seen him there. I bet if you asked, he’d teach you some things.”

  He dropped a piece of wood in the dirt. “You don’t want to teach me anymore, do you?”

  Damn it. Poor kid assumed I was trying to bail on him. “No, buddy, that’s not what I mean. I just thought since Jack’s your stepdad, maybe you could hang out more if you found something in common.”

  He shrugged again. The bit of openness I’d been seeing in him quickly faded, like he was curling in on himself. “There’s no point.”

  “No point in what? Hanging out with Jack?”

  “Yeah, why bother? He’ll just leave.”

  “I don’t think Jack’s going to leave.”

  His face lifted and I could see the anger burning in his eyes. “Everyone leaves.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. People always leave. It’s what they do.”

  “That’s not always true.”

  “You did.”

  I flinched, like he’d just kicked me. “You remember that?”

  “Yeah. I was little, but I wasn’t dumb. You didn’t say goodbye or anything.”

  Fuck. I started to reply, but he wasn’t finished.

  “My dad left. I don’t even remember him. Then you were gone, and nobody would tell me why. I found out what you did when I learned how to Google stuff. Logan and Levi moved, and so did Gavin, and I hardly see them anymore. Everybody leaves. Jack will too someday. And so will you. You were supposed to marry my sister and now Mom says she doesn’t know if it’s going to happen.”

  Fuck. Again.

  “Eli, I’m not leaving. And things with your sister are… complicated. It’s not that I don’t want to marry her, I just—”

  “I don’t care,” he said, his voice sharp. “It doesn’t matter. I gotta go.”