Free Dark River Road by Virginia Brown Page B

cut over to Sugarditch.
    As he started across the road, a red truck came around the corner and braked to a halt in front of him, blocking his path.
    “Hey, fag. I knew that was you. What’re you doing spying on us?”
    Chantry let Mikey slowly to the ground, one hand holding him for balance, the other still on Shadow’s leash. He decided to play stupid.
    “When?”
    The truck door opened. Chris stepped out, and Chantry heard the other door open. Damn. He hated being caught like this. Chris grinned real cocky.
    “Just now. You saw us. Brad said you did.”
    Brad Durbin came around the front of the truck. He’d made tight end on the football team this year, a big boy who was quick on his feet and bulky if not particularly bright. His father was the plant manager at Quinton Cotton Works. The third boy was Adam Wimberly. Fat. He just did whatever Chris wanted him to do.
    Chantry didn’t answer, and Chris got braver.
    “Ain’t got no old man to back you up this time, fag. You out here all by yourself ‘cept for that crippled kid and a mangy mutt.” Brad laughed and Adam smirked, both acting like Chris had said something really smart. Chantry didn’t move or speak, just stared at Chris until his eyes got narrow and the grin on his face faded some.
    Chris reached out and gave him a shove. “So what’cha gonna do, Callahan?” A mean look creased his face. “Still think you can win a fight without your old nigger backing you up?”
    “Thought we settled that the last time you called Dempsey that name.” Chantry gently shoved Mikey to one side, thrust the dog’s leash into his brother’s hand and stepped away from them. If there was going to be a fight, he wanted them gone. “Go home, Mikey. Now.”
    He was used to fighting more than one at a time. Beau and Rafe had never been shy about ganging up on him. It’d taught him a lot. But he didn’t like having distractions, and he didn’t want Mikey anywhere near to catch the backlash.
    Mikey whimpered a protest, but stumbled a few feet away to stand uncertainly in the middle of the street. Shadow strained at the leash, whining and growling like he knew there was trouble. He wished Mikey would get out of the street and go home like he’d told him. He didn’t like that he was still so close.
    “We didn’t settle nothin’,” Chris said. “You got in a few lucky punches before you got rescued.”
    “Seems to me you was the one needed rescuin’.” Chantry balanced on the balls of his feet, arms at his sides but ready. Fierce anger still ate at him. He hadn’t forgotten that cross burning in Dempsey’s front yard.
    “Yeah? You think so? Well, this time you’re the one gonna need help.” Chris made his move finally, a quick punch that Chantry evaded with a sidestep. He turned into the step, brought his arm back around so his fist connected with Chris’s nose. It sent him crashing back against the side of his truck. Before Chris could recover he hit him again, this time a hard left to the belly that bent him double with a loud grunt.
    Brad dove at him, caught Chantry around the middle and took him to the ground. They rolled on the gravel road as Brad punched him a couple of times. They weren’t hard punches since the bigger boy was off-balance, but hard enough to rock his head back and split his lip. He was used to this kind of fighting, being outnumbered and outweighed, and didn’t let the punches get to him. He focused on getting leverage, giving Brad just enough room to pull back for another punch and leave himself open. It didn’t take too long. Brad hauled back and rocked to his feet, bending over and holding Chantry’s shirt in one hand while he drew back his other fist.
    Chantry brought his leg up and caught him behind the knee, hard. Brad went down like a sack of meal, and he rolled to his feet just in time to get hit by Adam, who’d finally worked up the courage to step in. They both went sideways into the grass. Adam was easy to beat down. It