Chapter 10

“They didn’t do it.” Curtis’s expression was serious now, his jaw hardening as he met Lawson’s cold gaze. “Matt never had any part in the destruction—he wasn’t even there.”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Lawson nodded slowly. Without warning, he snapped his fist into Curtis’s face, knocking him into the stools in front of the bar. He fisted his hand in Curtis’s shirt before he could fall and jerked him close.

“You let me get into that ring believing he was a racist homophobe who was part of the fucking gang who killed three of our members and got Noah put in jail?” His throat tightened as he considered what else had almost happened that night. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Curtis twisted free and shoved Lawson away from him. He swiped off the trail of blood spilling from his bottom lip. “I thought Matt was covering for his brother who was all those things. Turns out he’s just a stupid kid who got caught up with the wrong crowd. You know what that’s like, don’t you?”

“Don’t fucking go there.”

“Why not?” Curtis stabbed his finger into the center of Lawson’s chest. “You might think you’re above it all, but I know you, Law. If Noah hadn’t been there for you, you’d have become the very thing you hate so fucking much.”

Pressing his eyes shut and pulling in a steadying breath, Lawson resisted the urge to hit Curtis again. He turned his back on the other man, pacing to the end of the bar, resting his hands on the edge as he considered the implications of what he’d learned.

He didn’t regret fighting Matt, but he wouldn’t have beaten him to fucking unconsciousness if he’d known Matt wasn’t to blame for destroying the sanctuary that Lawson valued above anything else. Curtis’s methods were underhanded as always, but he had a point. Lawson wasn’t proud of his past. When he’d met Noah, almost ten years ago, he’d been stripping parts off stolen cars for his car thief of a boyfriend. Barely eighteen, he’d met the man when he’d been sleeping on friends’ couches after being kicked out by his dad. Usual shit, his dad didn’t want a gay son.

He had two others. The spare could be forgotten.

Seduced by a sleek car and a sexy smile, Lawson had gone home with Vincent and been damn grateful to get a job at his ‘shop’. Months went by before he figured out the shit he was doing was illegal. By then it was too late. Vincent wouldn’t let him leave. He beat Lawson bloody when he tried.

More than once.

The last time, Lawson ended up in the hospital, where he met Noah.

“Nice flowers.” Lamest line ever, but Lawson was bored and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man with the wildflower bouquet, who looked like he could be a fucking model.

About his age, with light gray eyes and light brown hair in loose, wild curls that hit the collar of his white dress shirt, the man shot him a crooked grin from where he leaned against the wall a few feet away. A short beard framed his jaw with an unkempt style to it which was sexy as hell. Everything about the man seemed effortless.

His voice was smooth, with a deep undertone that had Lawson leaning forward as he spoke. “Brought them for my mom so she knows I’m taking care of her garden while she’s in here.”

Lawson laughed. “By killing her flowers?”

“Yeah…” The man’s brows creased slightly. “Hadn’t considered that.”

Fuck, he didn’t want the man to feel bad over a nice gesture. He shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll love them. I hope she’s doing okay?”

“She’s getting better. Some complications with her chemo, but the doctor is confident she’ll regain her strength and be home within a day or so.”

The comfortable atmosphere changed as Vincent strode into the waiting room. He fixed Lawson with a cold glare. “You’re well enough to sit here and chat, you should be at the fucking shop. Let’s go.”

Holding up his arm, which he’d been icing at the nurse’s orders, Lawson shook his head. “I’m waiting for x-rays. They think there’s some torn ligaments and—”

“Did I fucking stutter?” Vincent grabbed Lawson’s already fucked-up arm, sneering when Lawson cried out in pain. “Keep it up and I’ll give you a real reason to be here.”

Pushing away from the wall, the man with the flowers swiftly cut between Lawson and Vincent. He took hold of Vincent’s wrist, using it to twist Vincent around before shoving him halfway across the room.

He glanced back at Lawson. “Hold these.”

Taking the flowers, Lawson watched in awe as Vincent came at the man, only to have his punch blocked and his own momentum used to flip him onto his back. One foot on Vincent’s crotch, the man stared down at him.

“You should go now, don’t you agree?”

Vincent hissed through his teeth. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“From down there?” The man folded his arms over his chest. “I’d rather not have you spoil my visit with my mother, so I’m going to let you leave.”

“Like fuck you—GAH!”

“Sorry, what was that?”

The second the man moved his foot, Vincent scrambled back. Holding his crotch as he retreated, he glared at Lawson. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Once he was gone, the man retrieved his flowers and helped Lawson to his feet. He studied him for a moment before holding out his hand. “The name’s Noah. That fucker your boyfriend?”

Cheeks blazing with shame, Lawson nodded. “It’s a long story.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re not going back to him.” Noah put his hand on the center of Lawson’s chest, easing him back until he sat. “What’s your name?”

“Lawson.”

“All right, Lawson. Here’s what we’re gonna do. You owe me.” Noah held up his hand when Lawson’s lips parted. “My mom has a big place. A sweet guest house with a spare room. How are you with gardening?”

The bit of hope that had bloomed in Lawson’s chest died. He glanced down at his arm. “Probably worse with one arm than I would’ve been with two.”

“True.” Noah tapped his fingers on his chin. “But you can scatter seeds and hand me tools. Fetch me water. There’s plenty you can do until you’re healed up.”

Shaking his head with disbelief, Lawson met Noah’s steady gaze. “You don’t know me. Why the fuck would you help me?”

His question brought that crooked grin back to Noah’s lips. “Because my mom would kick my ass if I didn’t. She’s always bringing home strays. Speaking of which, you could help me with those too. Tell me you hate dogs and the deal’s off.”

“I love dogs.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” Noah patted Lawson’s shoulder. “Stop looking so shocked. There are good people out there, kid.”

“Not sure I’m one of them.”

“You like dogs and flowers.” Noah winked at him. “That’s good enough for me.”

Head bowed, Lawson considered how much had changed in him from the boy he’d been then, to the man he was now. He had control of his own life because Noah had given him the strength and skills to avoid being trapped by another Vincent. They’d built this club where men could find acceptance, could feel the kind of power that came from fighting, but on their own terms.

Matt should’ve had the same. Instead, he’d been forced into the ring and paid for a crime he hadn’t committed.

The win that had given Lawson satisfaction the night before now made his stomach turn. He rose slowly, refusing to look at Curtis, his voice rough as he spoke.

“He can stay.” He fisted his hands against the bar. “You pay him for his fucking work. You let him fight if he wants to and you take no more than a fair cut if you’re fronting him the entrance fee.”

“He still owes me—”

“He. Owes. You. Nothing.” Lawson looked at Curtis this time, lips curving as a thought occurred to him. “But you do owe me.”

“Bullshit. I paid for him to—”

“You manipulated him.” He moved closer to Curtis, enjoying the uncertainty in the man’s eyes. “There are so many ways I could make you repay me.”