Cassius

Ever notice that bad shit tends to happen all at once? You get hit with something painful, and then the punches keep on rolling until you're barely holding yourself together. I think it's intentional. I don't know why or how, but I think that's just the blueprint of life. It's a test. Strength training for the soul.

Getting broken down to a primal level, torn down to the very foundation of who you are so you can rebuild yourself to be stronger. Or you switch to autopilot and start making plans and barreling through that shit like it's in your way.

Neither way is wrong. Both require strength. I think it just depends on where you're at in life. Where you're currently at determines which road you end up taking to get where you need to go.

I'm barreling through.

I can't be with Quinn, so I'm making plans.

She ended it for a reason. Multiple reasons, really, after hearing everything mum relayed to me about Quinn's visit. If I fight for her...if I get her back, those problems will still be there. We'll get sucked into a cycle. So...I'm planning.

Quinn's mum is an issue. I'm still trying to figure out how to even approach that one without crossing boundaries. I'm coming up empty, so I decide to circle back to that later on.

Hunter, however, is easy. I can take care of him, no problem. I'm a resourceful guy with a lot of connections I kind of wish I didn't have. Well, except for right now. Now, they're useful.

And Ethan just kind of fell right into my lap. Showed up to Shadow one night and practically tripped over himself to come talk to me. Spent an hour telling me all about the coffee shop – which I already knew, thanks to Quinn telling mum. But then he threw in some shit I wasn't aware of yet. Hearing about Hunter showing up to her class after her exam pissed me off to no end.

Never thought I'd be grateful for Ethan's presence, but I found myself thanking him for a multitude of reasons. Like protecting Quinn. For relaying information that he was in no way obligated to. And for agreeing to help me take that worthless sack of shit down.

Life really is unexpected.

*************

I love being at Shadow while it's nearly abandoned. It's quiet and calm and actually smells kind of decent without the musk of sweat and blood swirling through the air. The only people at the bar are the regulars that like to hang out before the crowd floods in.

This afternoon, there's one extra guy up there. Ethan pulled through, luring Hunter to the club under the guise of a drug deal with Joey.

And since Joey is sitting right next to Hunter, I know he's working his magic as well. I wait until I see cash slide across the bar top, then the drugs. Joey pats him on the back with a smile, hopping from the stool to retreat back to the conference room. He nods at me in passing, and I return the gesture.

I don't like him, but he's soft on Quinn. And he owes me a lot of favors from the days of me saving his ass when he kept stepping out of line, dealing on marked territory.

Taking another quick look around, I feel a wave of relief to see everyone scattered around the club. Billy at the door, Wyatt standing by the jukebox, Warren sitting at the bar, and Gio pouring drinks. Everyone who didn't hesitate to get involved in this are blending in with the environment.

I needed witnesses, just in case something went south, and every single one of them are here.

I approach the bar and sit down next to Hunter, raising my hand in the air to get Gio's attention. He pours a beer and places it in front of me. Even though he wanders off to pretend he's busy, I can see him watching us, waiting for his cue.

Hunter slowly turns his head and narrows his eyes at me while I take the first sip of my drink. I choose not to acknowledge him yet. I want him to speak first so I can determine the best way to steer the conversation.

When he finally realizes I have no plans to address him, he huffs and faces forward again. From the corner of my eye, I inspect his every move. His pointer finger taps against the bar top. His right leg bounces with unrestrained anxiety. His eyes squint and his mouth forms a straight line.

"You got something to say to me?" He fires off, his spit landing on my forearm. Luckily, being a total fuckwad isn't contagious, or I'd officially be infected.

Leaning back in my stool, I blow out a breath.

"Nope. You?"

His neck and face tinge with bright pink as veins pop out around his throat.

"Actually, yeah. You and Quinn won't last, you know? You might be a nice distraction for now, but she'll come crawling back when she realizes she can't get over what we had."

I mean, part of that is true, I guess. Like the not being able to get over what they had. It fucked her up so deeply that I'm pretty sure a piece of him will always be embedded in her skin. But that's okay. We can build over that scar tissue, no problem.

"That it?" I ask with a yawn.

This time, he abruptly stands from his chair, pushing it back.

"That bitch got me fired. Got me pulled out of class for a random drug test, interviewed all my students. I'd suggest staying out of it if I were you."

His derogatory words toward her have me on edge. I keep reminding myself to stick to the plan instead of laying him out right here and now.

And did he say he got fired? Guess coach pulled through. Which means he either failed the drug test, or one of his students had some information that didn't bode well for his career. I smirk just thinking about the fact that he'll never work in the school system again after something like that.

I grin even harder over his weak attempt at a threat. Standing from my own chair as well, I step in close to the sorry excuse of a human being in front of me, making sure he can hear every word.

"Do you think that scares me, Hunter? You think I'm worried about you? You think Quinn should worry about you? I don't think you realize what you're getting yourself into, man."

My eyes bounce between his, reading the frustration building up inside him.

"I could snap your neck in two seconds flat." I whisper, my fingers twitching at my side.

"Go for it, shithead. I know you have a record. I'd love to see where you end up this time."

"Well, I don't got a fuckin record." Warren retreats from his hiding spot at the far end of the bar, stepping between us, his back to me. "Bet I'd get off pretty easy. Wanna test that theory out?"

He's lying. Warren has been arrested on three separate occasions and officially charged twice, but all while he was under the age of eighteen. His juvenile record is sealed, so I play along with his charade. Good thing Heather isn't here, or we'd all be locked up already.

When Hunter tries to take a step back, he's greeted by Wyatt's chest.

I lean to the side and shove my half-empty beer to the edge of the bar, catching Gio's attention. He nods and pulls his phone out, shooting off a quick text. Not even fifteen seconds later, his notifications sound off and he comes to pick up my glass – the signal that his part of the job is done.

"Get the fuck out of my club." I growl.

As much as I'd love to watch this guy get stomped into the ground, I didn't bring Warren and Wyatt in here to get involved in anything physical.

Surprisingly, the asshole listens after aiming one last malicious look at me and my brother. I'm guessing he thinks looks intimidating. He heads up toward the exit everyone uses, where Billy is always sitting. But, this time, Billy stops him.

"Sorry kid, this door is off limits. Have to use the front entrance." He points to a door that you wouldn't even notice if it weren't for us propping it open during the cooler months.

Hunter redirects without even questioning Billy, traveling toward the other exit instead. We spectate through the window stationed next to the door as he makes it out onto the sidewalk. Just in time to be stopped by an officer.

"He's gonna run." Gio chides, perching his elbows on the bar as he watches with us.

"Ya think?" Warren cocks his head to the side.

"Oh yeah. Look, he's already getting twitchy."

Hunter and the cop exchange a few brief words. I can almost smell the fear radiating from every inch of his vile body. And, just like G predicted, he suddenly bolts, sprinting down the sidewalk like the little bitch he is. Warren glances over at him with a sly grin as the foot pursuit leaves our line of sight.

"That's good right? Drug charges and eluding police?" Wyatt questions.

Gio answers with a shrug and turns to polish glasses for his shift tonight. "Wouldn't have mattered either way. He'll get charged with whatever I want."

The rest of us exchange curious glances and end up coming to the silent conclusion that we're just going to unhear what he said. There's too much to unpack there.