The Stranger by Mark Ayre (books you need to read TXT) 📗

Perhaps Danny was not a bad guy. He was worked up. Something had pushed him over the edge, and now the anger flowed unopposed. He couldn’t contain it, couldn’t stop it.

“He wants to control my life,” said Danny. “Gotta teach him a lesson.”

Eddie had moved to his knees. Still, he held his face. Even in the dark, Abbie could see his hands were drenched with blood.

“I would say you’ve made your point.”

“No one asked you, bitch.”

With a sigh, Abbie stepped over Eddie, putting herself between the brothers.

“No one ever asks,” she said. “Problem is, I’m meddlesome. Nosy. Just can’t keep out of other people’s business. I know, such unattractive qualities.”

“You said it.”

She met his eye. Held it, even in the dark.

“Come on,” she said. “It’s over. Walk away. Let your brother recover. You can meet for round two tomorrow.”

Danny pretended to consider. Knowing he was too far down anger road to back away, Abbie wasn’t fooled. She remained tense, ready. She had offered him the chance to leave only to ease her conscience before he forced her to do him some damage.

He said, “Fine.” Then charged.

It was too easy—a tiny shift to the right. A half turn at the waist.

These adjustments assured his left shoulder brushed past her chest. As it did, she grabbed his arm, stuck her knee in front of him and lifted her leg.

Danny was wiry, Abbie strong. Neither quality was needed. Momentum did most the work. Abbie’s leg merely eased Danny off the ground, into the air, where he remained until greeted by the tunnel’s brick wall.

With a yell, he rolled. A cut lined his right cheek. Come morning, his forehead would boast a bulbous bump. There would be plenty of pain. Already was.

Despite this, he rose.

“You should stop,” Abbie said, knowing he wouldn’t. “It needn’t get any worse for you.”

But Danny was ashamed. A girl had put him on his backside. He couldn’t have that, could he?

With a fist, he lashed out. A wild swing. Pathetic. With ease, Abbie knocked his arm aside, came forward, put a hand behind his head and forced a knee into his stomach. As he staggered, she slammed a boot into his knee, putting him to the ground with a scream.

He lay on his front. That should have been the end. Could have been.

Then he said, “Whore.”

Abbie stamped on the small of his back. Once more, Danny screamed. While she walked away, he clutched his lower spine and began to sob, began to moan. He might have thrown some more insults, but they were strangled.

Returning to Eddie, Abbie offered a hand. He was still on his knees. The blood had stopped flowing, though it covered his lower face, his hands, the upper segment of his top. He looked light-headed.

“Come on.”

A little dazed, he took her hand, let her pull him up. Once he was on his feet, he looked back to his groaning brother.

“You hurt him.”

“He’ll get over it. It’s not like I gave him cooties. Besides, he attacked you.”

Eddie seemed to be swaying. When Abbie tried to take his arm to help steady him, he shook it off and almost went down.

“We’re brothers,” he said. “We fight. Who are you anyway, because from where I’m standing, all you did was attack a stranger.”

Abbie was nobody. Miss No One. Always the stranger. Eddie wouldn’t care for that answer, and it was too early to get into what she was to him. They didn’t know each other well enough. She couldn’t have him calling the men in white coats.

“Didn’t look a harmless sibling squabble to me,” she said. “You want him to leave town. He wants to stay. Seems like he won’t be forced out. If I hadn’t been here, how far would he have gone to ensure you left him alone?”

Eddie shook his head. Pushed past Abbie and started towards his brother.

“You don’t know me or us,” he said as he left. “You know nothing about this situation, so why don’t you leave us alone?”

“Your brother’s life is in danger, right?” Abbie said, following though he didn’t want to be followed. “You care about him. Want to make sure he’s safe, but he isn’t, as long as he’s in town.”

“Go away.”

“He won’t be leaving tonight,” she said. “Not in his condition. He needs somewhere to stay. Where will he sleep?”

Eddie was leaning by his brother, who continued groaning, sobbing.

“He can stay at mine,” Eddie said.

“First place they’ll look.”

Eddie glanced back. “What do you know? Who’s they?”

Having only heard half the brothers’ conversation, and nothing concrete Abbie had little to go on. But at midnight, she had woken from a dream about Eddie. A dream in which his face was twisted with terror and pain. Upon arriving in Eddie’s town, the first place she’d visited had seen her end up in the middle of an altercation between a boy named Travis and a man named Ronson. The thug Ronson who Bobby believed worked for…

“Francis Roberts.”

Eyes widening, Eddie’s head whipped back to Abbie.

“Who the hell are you?”

When it came to Abbie’s dreams and the action she took as a result of them, there was no such thing as coincidence. No honest explanation of how she knew Francis was the man who threatened Danny’s life would yet be acceptable to Eddie, just as he would not accept who she was to him. She had to tread carefully. Extra carefully, given how he had reacted to her assault on his brother.

“Francis Roberts looms large over this community,” she said. “But he’s known elsewhere. People beyond the town limits worry about his actions. Your brother’s in danger. Believe it or not, I can help.”

There was little truth in this. Her words were vague enough that Eddie could read what he wanted into them. She could only pray he was in a frame of mind to want to be helped. To want to take a chance on a perfect stranger.

At first, he said nothing to Abbie. He returned to his brother and