The Brawl (3 page)

He stepped closer, picking out his brother from the mess. The big fucker was straddling Kitt, raining blows down. An ache shot from his lower back, and he cursed the skinny twerp. He’d feel that bruise on stage for the next week. Pushing the pain out of mind, Colton stepped forward, lining up. He glanced to his right, catching the blonde’s eye. She was a sweet girl, the kind he loved to make spicy. He couldn’t help but see the douche next to her, his arm holding her close. Too close.

Winding back, Colton threw a hard kick right between the legs of the big guy who had apparently taken down Kitt. The cry that came from Earl let Colton know he had connected squarely with the big man’s nuts. Colton’s grinned. He could feel the pain in his own groin, but there was something so satisfying about laying a man out. “God damn, right.”

Earl went limp. He felt the big musician roll him over, but Earl couldn’t react. White hot, boiling pain erupted from between Earl’s legs. It sucked the air from his lungs, deafened him, and flashed stars in his eyes. He no longer gave a fuck about the rockstars or his pride. All Earl could think about was whether his balls would ever drop from inside his torso.

Gerry was throwing blind fists, connecting, but only hitting Kitt against his thick arms or the top of his skull. When Kitt was tackled, he and Earl fell on top of Gerry, only serving to kick up more dust. He knew the fight was lost when he felt a boot against his nose. The snap was like a pencil broken at the center, and before he tasted it, Gerry could smell the scent of coppery blood. He was already coughing because of the dust, and adding blood running from his nose killed any last pride that Gerry had.

Colton grabbed Kitt under the arm and hoisted him up just in time to see the flashing reds and blues reflect off the worn wood exterior of the bar. “Fuckin’ great.”

“…Do you understand these rights as I have explained them?”
 

Of course he did. Colton knew the Miranda backwards and forwards. He’d been taken into custody more times than he could count. Nine times out of ten, he walked. The other ten percent? Suspended sentence, hearty fines, public apology. Moonshine Records was very good to their artists, and Colton Wade wasn’t a bad man; just a bad boy. None of that was in Colton’s head as the officer escorted him to her black and white. She was fuckin’ gorgeous.

Officer Harbaugh was a tall drink of water, just like Colton liked them. Her uniform showed off a strong, but still feminine form, and, of course, there was the whole power play aspect. If he hadn’t been so winded from the fight, his fast tongue probably could’ve gotten a few charges added on to disorderly conduct.

The bright LEDs of her cop car kept him from getting a good look at her eyes. Even still, he could read her body language when she cocked her head to the side and asked, “Mind telling me why you’re so smiley?” She was still using her cop voice, but no cop used the word smiley when talking to a wanton criminal.

Colton gave her something that was almost a wink. His adrenaline was still pumping, and his mind shifted from fighting to fucking. “Oh nothin’, I just don’t think I’ve ever been arrested by someone quite as gorgeous as you.”

The escort to the Crown Vic turned into a shove. With his hands cuffed behind his back, Colton had nothing to stop himself from slamming into the door. It wasn’t a hard hit, but stunned him. Pain radiated from his back with a skinny fucker had gotten in that one good shot. Colton held back a biting laugh. It was worth it. The cop was just too hot for Colton to keep his mouth shut.

Colton turned, leaning against the cop car, the arrogant but pained smile still on his face, “Didn’t mean to offend, Ma’am. Just paying a compliment, didn’t mean nothin’ by it, honest.” With the lights behind him and bathing her, he got a good look at her for the first time. The uniform fit her well and in all the right places. Her hair was tucked with great care up and under her cap. He squinted, trying to see what color it was. Blonde. He could have sworn it was blonde. She radioed back to the police station, and Colton noticed she had very well-kept fingernails. He would have given anything to see her in street clothes at one of his concerts.

Kitt shook his head as he watched his brother bang into the side of the car. “I coulda seen that coming. My apologies, officer. Colton might have one too many to drink, and that tends to lower inhibitions when it comes to authority figures and beautiful women alike. He don’t mean no harm, I promise.” The left side of Kitt’s mouth curled up into a smile. His right cheek was swollen from a fist, or an elbow, or a knee. The smile hurt, but after shitting all over the locals, it was time to play nice and try to clear things up before management and law got involved. Roger wouldn’t be happy about another dent in the tour. The record company wouldn’t be happy about more negative press and court fees.

“Quiet down.” The officer turned and shot the words back to Kitt, widening his eyes.
Cold shoulder. They really don’t like us in this town…

Kitt was eager to get back to the civilized parts of the country. The county fairs were great shows for building up the fan base, but there was trouble at every stop. Kitt did his best to keep Colton on a leash, but the leash never seemed to be short enough. Austin City Limits could be the break they needed. A new record was due out before the holidays, and ACL could be the thing that pushed them from hard-charging tourers to respected and well-received musicians.
 

Half of the group had left once the fight ended, but Kitt looked around to the crowd watching their arrest.
Ain’t nothin’ well-received about this.

Looking past the officer, Colton met eyes with the blonde who was glued at the hip to the local yokel. There was sadness in those pretty eyes until she looked up. A sparkle came to them when he smiled at her. Colton thought he caught a little hint of pride in her eyes. She was on the Wade brothers’ side, but she was stuck in the shit-kicker town, anyway. The boyfriend squeezed her arm, but the cute blonde pulled herself free. She didn’t want to watch Colton get hauled away, and she didn’t want to spend another minute next to her dumb boyfriend.

Colton smiled at her defiance.
Good girl.
Get yourself free.
Officer Harbaugh pulled open the back passenger door, put a firm hand at Colton’s neck, and dropped him down into the seat. “Easy now, watch the hair.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but she didn’t laugh. Kitt was fed in beside him, and the two were on their way to lockup.

The roads were bumpier than Colton remembered on the way in. The county fair had been well attended, but the town wasn’t nothin’. The lady cop seemed to be giving them the scenic route to the police station. Hell, the town wasn’t big enough for a police station. It would be one of those combo police, fire, and post offices. His fantasy of kicking the locals’ asses and skittering off to the motel with that quiet little blonde was nothin’ but dust kicked up by the Crown Vic’s tires.

Colton leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the metal grating that separated the front and back seats. Taking in a deep breath, he thought he smelled the hint of perfume on Officer Harbaugh. It might just as well have been her shampoo, but it was mighty fine either way. “Mind if I ask why we the only two bein’ hauled in? Was the ringleader of that ass whoopin’ also the mayor? Sounds about right to me.”

“The two of you were the perpetrators. I had a dozen witnesses sayin’ y’all attacked Gerry and his friends while they were on their way to head on home.”

“Bullshit.” Colton brought a long leg up and kicked at the grate between the Wade brothers and Officer Harbaugh. “Bullshit.”

Kitt leaned over, “Let it go, brother. You really think kickin’ up a fuss like this is gonna get us sprung?”

Colton’s eyes went wide. “It’s the principle, Kitt. It’s the fuckin’ principle of it.”

Turning forward, again, Colton softened his approach. Logic and anger hadn’t done anything. The two brothers swayed left as Officer Harbaugh made a right turn and bounced over some loose gravel. “I hate to play this card, but I’m actually a musician. We played at the fairgrounds a few miles from here.”

“I know who you are.” She didn’t turn to him. Her head stayed forward, staring down the narrow, weather-beaten road.

“Well, now we’re talkin’,” Colton’s voice got cheerier on the spot. “In that case, you understand just how important it is that my brother and I get back to the tour bus.  Austin is a long way off, and we gotta be there by the afternoon.”

The officer didn’t turn back. “Y’all two ain’t goin’ nowhere tonight.” Her voice was steady and unmoving as the rusty railroad tracks she drove over.

Kitt sighed and leaned back. The cuffs dug into his wrists, so he adjusted as best as he could.
Ain’t no damn way to sit comfortable back here, but I guess that’s the idea.
Roger would be pissed, but they’d still make it to the show in Texas. There was no way in hell the record company would let Colton Wade and The Guilty Party miss their first appearance on Austin City Limits. It was too damn big.

He looked forward, trying to see if they were headed anywhere close to civilization, and in the dim light of the cop’s laptop and various radios, he caught her eyes in the rearview. They hung on him, reading and studying his own. Kitt couldn’t see the woman’s mouth, but he could tell that her lips were curled up. Was she enjoying her little game of toying with the Wade brothers?