From the front porch, Ethan spotted Graham standing by Sadie's car, arms wrapped around himself against the cold air. Sadie dashed for the car, digging her keys out of her pocket on the way. Ethan rushed straight for Graham and hugged him.
“You all right?”
“What's going on?”
“We have to get the hell out of here.”
“I gathered that much.”
A sound like a cracking whip rang out from behind Ethan. He let go of Graham and spun around.
Lazaro charged from the house, the aluminum storm door dangling from one hinge in his wake.
The power locks on Sadie's car clicked.
Ethan stepped in front of Graham, putting himself between his son and his former brother-in-law. “Get in the car.”
The car's engine growled to life as Lazaro crossed the overgrown front yard, his eyes locked on Ethan as he came. “Do not get in that car.”
“Or what?” Ethan asked, moving forward while listening to make sure Graham climbed into the car. He heard the door open, but not shut.
Lazaro closed the distance, going face-to-face with Ethan. “Tell them to get out.”
“Shut the door, Graham.”
“But—”
“Close the door and lock it. Now!”
The door thumped closed. The power locks snapped home.
Lazaro's breath came against Ethan's face, a sour mix that made Ethan want to wrinkle his nose, but he kept his face straight. Any sign of weakness, however minor, would only fuel Lazaro. Ethan had known him long enough to know the bulk of his power came from pure intimidation. Not that he couldn't hit hard. Ethan had also seen the amount of damage Lazaro could deal in a single blow. Ethan had been lucky enough to avoid experiencing that strength himself. He hoped his luck could hold out a little longer.
Lazaro asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“Are you kidding? You pulled a gun on me, on my girlfriend. Threatened to tie her up.”
“I'm trying to help—”
“I don't need this kind of help, if that's what you think it is.”
“So you want to see Graham in jail?”
“No more than I want to see Sadie held prisoner at gunpoint.”
The sides of Lazaro's jaw pulsed. He looked down as if collecting his thoughts. When he returned his gaze to Ethan, a sheen of moisture glistened in his eyes.
“I would never intentionally hurt anyone you care about.”
Ethan shook his head. “Intentions aren't good enough. I knew from the start you were too dangerous to have back in my life. It was Rain's decision to bring you into this. But I should have known better than to go to her.”
“Don't blame her for this. Graham is her son, too. She has just as much right to be a part of—”
“She gave up any rights she had when she refused to get off the junk and act like a responsible adult. That hasn't changed.” He waved a hand through the air. “Forget it. I'm done here.”
Ethan turned toward the car.
Lazaro grabbed Ethan's arm and tugged him back. “You do not want to walk away from me.”
Ethan met Lazaro's eyes. “Or what?”
Lazaro's grip tightened on Ethan's arm like a set of channel locks ready to twist the limb right out of his torso. “Don't make me do this.”
The threat vibrated through Ethan like the tone from a tuning fork, rattling every nerve in his body. His breath grew thick and hot in his throat. “I thought you wouldn't hurt me, Laz.”
“I don't want to.”
“Then let go.”
The color of Lazaro's cheeks darkened. A car in need of a muffler grumbled by on the street, leaving behind an acrid cloud of exhaust that wafted across the front yard.
“I can't let go until you promise to get them and yourself back into the house.”
“Why? What's so important about us staying with you?”
“I can make sure you and Graham stay safe.”
Ethan flexed his bicep in an attempt to loosen Lazaro's grasp, but Lazaro responded by digging his fingers deeper into the muscle. He must have pinched a nerve. Pain jigged up Ethan's arm, over his shoulder, all the way into his neck.
He felt his face tighten, betraying him with a wince.
Lazaro saw it, and his presence seemed to expand before Ethan. The weakness exposed, Ethan lost all hope of talking himself out of the confrontation.
“I told you,” Ethan said, “I don't want your help.”
Lazaro's next move came too fast for Ethan to react. He bent Ethan's arm up behind his back and shoved him face first against Sadie's car.
Ethan's chin knocked against the roof of the car, clapping his teeth together. Lazaro had Ethan's hand almost up between his shoulder blades and bent at such an awkward angle that his elbow felt close to snapping.
“Get out of the car,” Lazaro shouted.
“Don't,” Ethan said.
Lazaro responded by jerking Ethan's arm. “Get out or I break his arm.”
Ethan clamped his teeth together. He tried to relax his muscles, give them as much flex as possible to ease the pain. But every inch of slack he gave his arm, Lazaro took from him by hiking the arm up higher.
Pressing his cheek against the car's cool metal, Ethan howled.
“Out,” Lazaro repeated.
The power locks clacked open.
“No,” Ethan groaned.
“Shut up.”
The driver's side door popped open and Sadie started getting out of the car.
“Cut the engine first.”
Sadie settled back behind the wheel. A moment later, the engine died.
“Sadie, don't listen—” His own scream swallowed his words as Lazaro twisted Ethan's wrist, opening a whole new avenue of pain through his arm.
“Get out of the car, and get back in the house.”
Ethan craned his neck to look at Sadie as she came out from behind the wheel. “Sadie.” When she met his eyes, he tried to focus as much gravity into his voice as he could. “Get back in the car and . . .” Another twist and tug to his arm brought a ring of darkness around his vision. He spoke through the pain. “Get Graham out of here. Get him away.”
“Stupid,” Lazaro said. “Do you think I'm bluffing? Does it feel like I'm bluffing?”
At once, the pain grew to a peak then broke like a fever. While it didn't fade, Ethan's brain seemed to make peace with the agony, accepted it instead of fighting it. Now it didn't seem so bad. Not sure how long this trick to his nerves would last, Ethan stared intently into Sadie's eyes.
“To hell with my arm. Do you understand? Just go.”
A second of hesitation, but then Ethan saw by the set of her jaw that Sadie had made a decision. She dove back into the car and slammed the door shut.
“No,” Lazaro growled. He swung Ethan aside, throwing him onto the gnarled lawn.
The sudden release actually spiked the pain through Ethan's arm until he hit the ground and a broken piece of cement gouged into his side, drawing some of the pain to his ribs.
Lazaro charged the driver's side door and tugged on the handle, but Sadie had already reengaged the locks. He pounded the heel of one fist against the window.
The car's engine started.
Ethan caught a glimpse of Graham peering out the window from the back seat down at him. He gave his son a reassuring nod. It didn't seem to help.
Lazaro struck Sadie's window again and the tempered glass cracked.
The brake lights flared as Sadie put the car in gear.
Lazaro roared and pounded both fists on the hood as the car pulled away from him. He followed a few steps, but did not chase them once they cleared the driveway. He stood about three feet from Ethan as he watched the car speed down the street.
Then he turned and glared at Ethan.
“That was real dumb. I really wish you hadn't done that.”
Ethan's arm still ached, along with the spot on his side where the chunk of concrete still poked him. From the ground, Lazaro looked twice as big and three times as mean. There was no way Ethan could win a straight fight against him. The pain Ethan felt now would be nothing compared to how he would feel once Lazaro had finished with him.
And from the looks of Lazaro, he had every intention of finishing.
Ethan's only hope of getting out of this was to stay out of a straight fight.
“What now?” he asked, rolling to one side so he could reach under him for the cement piece. He acted as though he were cradling his pained ribs.
“I ought to kick your skull in.”
Ethan's fingers found solid purchase on the cement. Now it was a matter of timing. Trying to get up from the ground fast enough to swing the rock at Lazaro wouldn't work. He had to draw Lazaro down to him. “Does that mean you don't want to be friends anymore?”
“Fuck you, Ethan. I was sincere about helping you. But you just couldn't stand not being in control.”
“You think that's what this is about?”
“That's what it's always been about. You've made all the decisions for everyone else up till now. You think you know what's best for everybody. Maybe you don't, though. Maybe this time, I did.”
Ethan twisted the concrete under him, making sure it was loose. Then he tightened his hold and prepped himself for the one swing he would get.
“How in the world,” Ethan asked, “would a head case like you know what's best for my son?”
Lazaro's eyes bulged. His lip curled. Each that breath came out rattled while spittle flicked off his lower lip. “I'm not crazy,” he shouted even as something seemed to snap inside of him. He lunged for Ethan, his hands pawing for purchase on Ethan's shirt.
It took every thread of Ethan's will to hold back his attack until Lazaro had lifted him off the ground. Lazaro was so engulfed in his rage that he didn't notice the hunk of cement Ethan drew up with him.
Lazaro planted Ethan on his feet, then drew back a fist while steadying Ethan with his opposite hand. “I should have done this the day you left Rain behind.”
Ethan swung his arm, bringing the concrete chunk around like a wrecking ball.
A corner of the rock collided into the side of Lazaro's face. The crunch of the impact reverberated up Ethan's arm.
Lazaro spun away, a streak of red flashing before Ethan's eyes then gone as Lazaro tumbled face first onto the driveway.
Trembling, Ethan approached Lazaro who was already pushing up onto his hands and knees. He raised the cement piece above his head.
“Stay down.”
Lazaro turned his head. A bright red rivulet of blood trickled down his cheek. “You could have killed me.” He shuffled a foot under him to stand.
Ethan kicked him back to his hands and knees.
“Stay down, I said.”
Lazaro eased around to a sitting positing and touched at the cut on his cheek. “A little higher and you would have fucking brained me.”
“That's what I was aiming for.”
“Are you nuts?”
“I know damn well I wouldn't stand a chance against you in a fight.”
“So you try to kill me?”
“Give me the keys to your car.”
“They're inside.” He cracked a grin. “You want me to go get them?”
“Stay right where you are.”
“I want you to know something,” Lazaro said. “I forgive you.”
“That's sweet of you.”
“But I owe you one now.”
“Why did you want us to stay here?”
“To protect you, Ethan. I already told you that.”
“There's something else. You're a nut job, but this is more than just crazy.”
Lazaro's eyes darkened. “You better sleep with that rock tonight.”
Before Ethan could respond, he heard the car roar up behind him followed by the barking tires as the car braked. He glanced over his shoulder.
Graham threw open his door and got out of the car. He spotted Lazaro on the ground, then his eyes went to the cement Ethan still held over his head. “Whoa.”
“What are you doing back here?”
Graham's mouth hung open, eyes wide.
“Never mind.” Ethan backed away from Lazaro while hanging onto the cement rock. “Let's get out of here.”
With some distance between them, Lazaro stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. The blood ran like red sweat down the side of his face.
Ethan kept his eyes locked on Lazaro as he ushered Graham back into the car and got in himself. Lazaro stared right back, silent.
“Stay away from us.” Ethan tossed the cement chunk to the curb then shut the car door. “Go.”
Even once down the street and around the corner, Ethan could feel the heat of Lazaro's glare on the back of his neck.