‘Yeah, you told me, big guy.’

Jack stood, wobbly. ‘You mind yourself there, mate.’

Sharon, raising an arm to motion him down, said, ‘Jack . . .’

‘What’s wrong?’ the large one said. ‘You mad I called her a bitch, or you?’

‘You call her a bitch again . . .’

‘You bloody dim to go with it then?’ The man’s grin widened, suggesting he’d enjoy facing whatever Jack might throw at him. Jack, for his part, did not seem to read the man’s expression.

Sharon said, ‘Jack. I can handle myself, thank you.’

He turned back to her. ‘You hear what he called you?’

The big one laughed. ‘Can’t even defend his woman without her go ahead. Under the thumb. You really are a little bitch.’

The strike was so fast Sharon barely saw it. Just the sound of a fist colliding with Jack’s face. Jack groaned, one hand reaching up to hold his ear. He gurgled a little. On wobbly feet, he careened into the wall. Sharon’s first thought was for her own preservation, so she scurried free from the tipping table. The larger man kept pushing at Jack, shoved his shoulder up against the glass window overlooking the main street. He grabbed Jack in a headlock. It wasn’t long before Jack started vomiting.

‘You mongrel,’ the man said, and pushed Jack down onto the floor, into his own mess. Onlookers were stepping back now. Nothing they’d not seen before. There were little bubbles in the spew as Jack struggled to breathe, his face pressed into the mess. Sharon wondered if he was actually crying.

The whole pub was silent bearing witness to this event. The jukebox droned sadly on. Some of them had huddled together to avoid the scene.

Sharon stepped forward—Jack’s whimpers hard to take. The younger one, though, shook his head, cautioning her to stop. He said, ‘Just tell us where the Cahills are.’

‘You need to let him go,’ Sharon said. She breathed in, raised her voice. ‘I’ll arrest you. Assaulting a police officer.’

The large one finally let go of Jack, who barely moved, just lay there in the puddle he’d created. The man brushed at the vomit on his jacket sleeve, looked disgusted. ‘Like to see you try,’ he said. She aimed to steady herself. She remembered her father throwing her into the shed, onto the grass.

‘You getting around me here doesn’t prove anything. The law is the law. I’ll arrest you and you’ll be brought in.’

Martin said, ‘That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t change what we’ll do to him’—he nodded his head toward Jack—‘right now. I’ve done time before. I’ll do it again. So has Judah. Don’t mind forsaking the future for the now. Only way to live, really.’

Sharon finally said, ‘You lot are new here and I get you’ve had a bad day. My guy was drunk. Let’s call it even, done. Right now. You leave right now or I’ll have to arrest you.’

The younger one smiled. Then in a quick movement he jumped at her, snatched her head up, locking her beneath his arms. She fumbled with his arms, tried to pry them off. Seeing red, going dizzy.