Perfect Homecoming by Stewart Danielle

Author:Stewart, Danielle [Stewart, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07XTP9P4Q
Goodreads: 52094666
Publisher: Random Acts Publishing
Published: 2020-02-18T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Brian

It was always his weapon of choice. Not that he ever looked forward to having to pull out his brass knuckles, but they were effective. If outnumbered, it could be an equalizer. If the other guy hit harder, it could pack more punch.

One of Brian’s first memories was of his brother Tommy giving him a lesson on how to fight. The lesson consisted mostly of Tommy beating the shit out of him while giving advice on all the things Brian was doing wrong. He’d hit him upside the head and then scold him for not having his hands up. From the outside it may have looked cruel, but to Brian it was a moment he’d been waiting for. It was a rite of passage and even at a young age he understood how important the skill would be.

Over the years, the O’Malley brothers had earned a reputation. They moved in a group most days. Loyal to each other in a way that bordered on unhealthy. If one was crossed, they collectively avenged him. They were tough but they weren’t instigators. They wouldn’t pick a fight for the sake of blowing off steam. It was always a reaction to being provoked. But once they had the reputation as being fighters, it followed them. People sought out opportunities to throw down with them, and they were quick to oblige.

“I can throw in a switch blade if you buy with cash.” The owner of the pawn shop had more gold rings on his fingers than a movie starlet on the red carpet. His greasy forehead gleaned under the fluorescent lights.

“I don’t need the knife.” Brian slid his fingers into the cold metal and clenched his hand into a fist. “These will do.”

“You need a television?”

“No, man, just these.” Brian slid some cash on the glass counter and then paused. “Can I see that bracelet?”

“Oh, see I knew you weren’t just looking for something to fight with. You have to have someone to fight for. This bracelet is a treasure. A steal. Two hundred dollars.” He handed the delicate bracelet with the charm to Brian.

“Eighty dollars,” Brian offered back curtly.

“A hundred.”

“Eighty-five.” Brian handed the bracelet back.

“Fine.” The man let out a long dramatic sigh. “It’s worth double that.”

“And you paid half that.” Brian pulled more cash from his wallet and laid it down. “I grew up down the road from a pawn shop. I spent way too much time down there wheeling and dealing.”

“I can tell.” The man handed over a bag accompanied by a steely stare. But Brian read respect in his eyes. “I hope you only have to take one of those things out of that bag. Fighting isn’t like it used to be. Everyone’s bringing guns to the knife fight now. There used to be rules in my day. A code that people respected. I blame all this MMA fighting stuff. You never know who you’re squaring up with—a guy who can throw punches or maybe some dude who can roundhouse kick your head off your shoulders.

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