BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

He glanced at the girl for the first time since the fight started. She looked like she always did. He knew because he’d been watching her for weeks, driving by her house, going into bars she was at. She’d noticed him, she might even have known who he was, but they never spoke.

She was wearing fishnet stockings that went all the way to her ass and leather boots that looked like they’d come off a BDSM fetish site. On her wrist was a tattoo of a red spearhead with a black dagger and the word Airborne above it.

“You walked right up to her and told her to come with you,” the big man said. “Right in front of my face.”

“Calm down,” Lance said, but he wasn’t calming anybody.

“Calm down?” the big guy said.

“All I did was ask how she was doing.”

The big guy couldn’t believe it. No one stood up to him, not even the cops. He controlled the drug traffic at Roosville, Chief Mountain, and a few other small border crossings. People knew not to mess with him.

“And what gave you the idea to go and do that?” he said.

Lance wasn’t sure what to say. He looked at the girl, then back at the big guy.

He turned to the bartender for support but he wasn’t offering any.

“Look at her,” Lance said.

He said it to the room, to the bartender and the guys in flannel shirts and Timberlands by the pool table. He said it to the girl. The words didn’t sound right but he didn’t know how else to put it.

It was the girl who replied. She took the gum from her mouth and said, “The fuck did you say?”

Her voice was harsh. Just listening to it put the taste of an ashtray in Lance’s mouth.

He looked her over, head to toe, then at the rest of the guys in the bar. “This can’t be right,” he said.

“What,” the girl said pointedly, “can’t be right?”

Lance shrugged. “Any of it.”

“Any of what?”

Lance shook his head, but the girl insisted.

“No,” she said. “You got something to say to me, have the guts to say it to my face.”

“All right,” Lance said. He made a motion with his hand like a hammer going up and down. “You look like you suck dick for meth.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. She was pretty, beautiful even, but her lifestyle was catching up on her. There were bruises around her eyes, faded but they’d been bad a week earlier. The big guy was roughing her up.

Lance remembered the first photo of her he’d seen. She couldn’t have been more than four or five, happy as could be, sitting on her daddy’s knee.

“You don’t need to be with these guys,” he said.