Downfall(4)



As soon as my attacker was back on the ground, the bigger guy stepped forward. I reflexively cringed as he lowered his big, booted foot down on the other man’s unprotected private parts. A wail of agony shrieked through the air, and I realized belatedly I should be hauling ass for my apartment, not standing around waiting to see how this brutal display of street justice played out.

I clutched Noble’s hand in mine and briskly jogged the last few yards to my apartment building. I lifted Noble over the sleeping homeless man and hustled up the five flights of stairs to our floor. The elevator had been broken since before we’d moved in, not that I would dare let either of us get trapped in a small place with anyone from this complex.

I was a panting, quaking mess when I finally slammed the door. I dropped to my knees and pulled my daughter into my arms, covering her tear-streaked face in kisses and whispering soothing words over and over again.

There was no way this could be our new normal.

But it was.

Noble deserved so much better than this.

I sighed, pushing her hair off her precious face. “You know what, sweets?” She blinked big, watery blue eyes at me and shook her head. “I think we both need cake.”

She nodded and cuddled close to me.

It wouldn’t occur to me until much later that I hadn’t bothered to shout a thank you or shown any appreciation at all to my savior. I had no clue if he was any better than the scumbag who had grabbed me, but he had at least kept my daughter safe, so I owed him, even if he was one of countless things in this forever dark place that scared the life out of me.

People didn’t help other people in this neighborhood… but he had stopped and helped me, whether his intentions were altruistic or not.

And I owed him… well… at the very least, more than a piece of cake.





Solo



I looked down at the man at my feet who now had a broken nose, two black eyes, and a split lip. His rat-like face was scrunched up in pain and covered in drool and blood.

Skinner was a bully when it came to anyone weaker and smaller than him. He liked to shake down the kids in the neighborhood for money, and I’d warned him on more than one occasion to leave the women and girls alone. He got off on scaring them and sending them running. I was done with him and his bullshit ways.

I didn’t like the way he lurked around, and I didn’t like that he sold drugs on the corner near my apartment building, because drugs brought around more shady, sketchy people like Skinner. I was done with warnings and threats. He was manhandling the young mother right out in the open. The little girl in her arms was hysterical, and I could hear Skinner laughing at their fear and panic all the way down the block.

I was exhausted. I’d put in a full day of work at the garage. It was a terribly kept secret in the neighborhood that the garage was actually a chop-shop, but that didn’t mean the job and the amount of time I spent working on the classic cars, which were my specialty, was any less labor intensive. I’d also spent a couple hours training at the gym around the corner from the garage. I always put in extra work when I had a fight coming up, so I was tired, sore, and in no mood for an altercation with someone like Skinner. I had zero patience for people who didn’t listen to me. It was disrespectful, and I made sure no one got away with openly disrespecting me. It was how I stayed the scariest thing on the streets I called home.

Plus, I’d seen the redhead and her kid around the block the last couple of months or so. I was pretty sure she lived in the same building as me, but I kept weird hours and wasn’t in the market for new friends or fragile females with baggage. The mother was very young and so out of place on these streets that she practically had a bright red and white bullseye painted on her back.

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that she didn’t belong here. She was like a newborn lamb trying to blend in with a pack of wolves. I had no idea what brought her to my city, but it must have been pretty bad because this was the last place anyone wanted to end up. My city was the last resort and the end of the road for most of the people who lived here. The young mother was already scraping the bottom of the barrel; she didn’t need to fend off an attack from a loser like Skinner on top of it. I had a feeling she would have fought tooth and nail to keep him away from her kid, and I admired that. This town wasn’t my last-ditch effort. For me, it was simply home, because I had a mother who would also fight tooth and nail to make sure nothing bad touched me. I was done with Skinner, and I wanted to make sure he understood that if he ever put his hands on the redhead or her child again, he was going to need machines to keep him alive because I would beat him into a damn coma.

I pointed a finger at the cowering man in front of me and told him flatly, “I warned you about hanging around my block, Skinner. It’s like you purposely want to piss me off.” I took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. My shoulders screamed at the move, reminding me that I may have pushed a bit too hard when I was using the bench press tonight. “Do I strike you as the kind of guy who tolerates being ignored?”

The bloody man whimpered and curled his body into a protective ball. “I was just having some fun. That bitch needs to be knocked off her high horse. The kid was just in the way.”

My back teeth ground together and my hands curled into fists. “She was trying to get her kid home and she was scared shitless. She clearly knows being out after dark isn’t a good idea. You showed her why that’s true.” I narrowed my eyes and lowered my chin so he wouldn’t miss the glare aimed his way under the brim of my hat. “I don’t want to see you again, Skinner. If I do,” I nudged his leg with the toe of my boot. “I won’t have to worry about you being on the corner because you’ll be calling the hospital—or the morgue—home. Are we clear?” I pressed the sole of my boot deliberately on the side of his knee. A tiny bit more pressure and his kneecap would slide out of place. It was really hard to hustle poison when you couldn’t run from other dealers and whacked-out junkies.

Jay Crownover's Books