Chapter 2: PROLOGUE, Part 2

His little brother Kyle wasn't too bright. By that he meant, the boy was book smart and knew right from wrong and all that happy shit, but when it came to his big brother, there was a glitch in his head.

It was understandable, though, since the two were all the family each had left. Law looked over at his brother. "Kyle, if this son of a bitch gets the drop on me, you let him lone ya hear?" All he got was those eyes turned on him and a grunt.

He guessed that was gonna have to do for now. He'd expect the others to keep Kyle in line. Not that he expected the other man to overpower him, that little speech was all for the man's benefit.

He turned his attention back to the asshole, who charged him like a bull out the pen at the starting bell. What an ass. Law stood still until the fool got close enough and hit him in the face with a short left-hand jab.

This enraged the bull, and he charged again. Each time he charged, Law countered with a jab, a kick, or a punch. Truth was, the big bastard couldn't fight worth shit.

"I see your skills only extend to beating up on the weak; where the fuck did you learn to fight anyway?" The next time the idiot charged him, Law used a thumb to the throat, right on his pulse, and dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

"You're no daisy at all." Doc Holliday, another motherfucker that didn't give a fuck, these men were Law's go to encyclopedias.

The door opened, and the woman came out with Brandon behind her. She had bags and suitcases full of shit. One of the suitcases was too stuffed to even close properly, so there were clothes hanging out.

She took one look at her husband lying in the dirt and walked over to him. Pulling her foot back, she kicked him in the nuts before spitting on him.

"Alright, you blood-thirsty wench, you got a truck or something around here to drive? You can't fit that shit on the back of a bike." Law pulled her away from the fallen man before she could hurt herself.

"I have my daddy's old truck he gave me if I ever wanted to leave this jerk. I don't know if it'll work though, it hasn't been moved in a while."

Law inclined his head to one of the boys to go check it out. Not long after, he heard the sound of a rusty old engine turning over. It ought to get them to where they were going.

"Okay, men, half in front and half behind." He turned back to the man who surprisingly hadn't said more than three words since they'd pulled up. "If I see you on the road anytime in the next half hour, I'll light your ass up with lead."

He was the last one to pull out though his men hated when he did that shit. But whenever he knew the threat was coming from behind, he made it a point to stay between them and it. He didn't care too much for grandstanding, so he didn't always need to ride the front.

His baby brother pulled back to ride with him, and he left him alone because talking to the kid was like pulling teeth. "Law you taking her?" he heard the words through his headphones on their private channel.

"What do you mean taking her?"

"I mean, we can't send her back there, the girl I mean. If you're not gonna take her, I will."

"Oh yeah? And what's Melissa gonna say about that?"

Kyle rubbed his side where his wife had either kicked, bit, or punched him. "I wasn't meaning it like that, but she needs seeing after."

Law thought of the girl that had dragged her beaten ass onto his property just hours ago. She couldn't be more than fifteen, sixteen; his brother was nuts.

He left the conversation there as his mind took in the fact that the girl had traveled the distance between their homes in her condition on foot. It had to have been an excruciating ordeal.

Then he thought of his brother's question; he knew where it was coming from. Kyle had become a hard, introverted brute in the last few years, but he hadn't always been that way though, no.

Once, he was a carefree, happy-go-lucky boy who played varsity football and beat the girls and women off with a stick. Until his girl Melissa got her hooks in him, that is, then he'd settled down. He'd still been his wild self, though, until the day both their worlds had been turned to shit.

He'd got the news while deployed in Iraq. Someone had slaughtered his parents and little sister. The only reason Kyle had been spared was because he hadn't been home at the time, and Law was pretty sure that had been a mistake on the attackers' part.

He still wasn't sure what the fuck they'd planned to do about him unless they were expecting him to buy it in combat. He'd been on the next flight home, with his emotions on lockdown. He went through the viewing, the wake, and the funeral with his heart on ice.

The law had claimed they had no idea who'd done it, but Law knew who was responsible. He'd had no doubts since the minute he'd heard the news. Plus, he didn't trust the law one fuck and with good reason. So, no matter how much they'd lied through their teeth as they tried to pull the wool over his eyes, Law knew in his core the name of the man responsible.

It had to be that son of a bitch, Royce Davis. He'd been after Law's daddy to sell him his land for the longest time, but the old man hadn't been interested in selling his family legacy.

The land had been in the Daniels family since the early settlers headed out West. It was some of the best land in the whole damn state, and everybody pretty much knew that.

The natural gas alone was worth millions, not to mention the prime location would be ideal for some asshole that might want to turn the old town into a metropolis.

Shamus Daniels had had no interest in any of those things. He was an old throwback, who still wore buckskins and his old cowboy hat worn low over his eyes, and taught his sons about the land and how to respect it.

He'd taken Law aside more than once and made him swear an oath that he won't ever sell his legacy. That's how Law knew of Royce's interest in the land, how he'd known where to point the finger right off.

It was the only thing that made sense; his parents didn't have any enemies. And it was more than a coincidence that in his last correspondence with his dad, the old man had mentioned problems with Royce.

There was some developer looking to buy up the land, and since Royce's was no use without the Daniels' plot, they needed both men to sell.

The land they were after was part of the Daniels' grazing land, a pretty spot that Law had ridden plenty. The kicker was, in order to sell that piece of land, they'd have to give up the natural gas and mineral rights as well since the two plots were connected somewhat. Law and his old man were pretty sure that that's what they were after. Now his dad was gone, and he'd rather have given up the land.

***

Law came home and buried his family and looked after his traumatized little brother. When no one was willing to help him, something inside him had changed. He wasn't too pleased that his family had been destroyed while he'd been off protecting others.

He told the army he had a kid brother to take care of and walked. At that point, he wasn't much interested in anything they could've done to him; he'd said fuck you to the world by then.

He'd bided his time, waiting to see if the sheriff would get his head out of his ass long enough to do something about the whispers; seems everyone but him knew who was behind the deed.

Each day as he waited, he grew more and more impatient, and the anger grew dark and ugly. He knew there was no way he could live so close to the murderer of his family without retaliation.

He'd been taught all his life to uphold the law, to have respect for those in authority, which hadn't always panned out, but still, he'd toed the line.

When nothing was done, Law had taken matters into his own hands. By then, he'd found himself the head of an army of men.

Men who had grown tired of the tyranny of the town's big shot and the half-ass sheriff, who was obviously in his pocket, had searched him out.

Their allegiance was borne from long years of injustice under the two men's hold. It had taken the slaughter of one of the town's most highly regarded families to shake them up and make them say enough is enough.

The night he paid Royce a visit, the fucker wasn't there, but that didn't stop Law from burning his place to the ground, barns, bunkhouses, and all.

He'd let the animals loose and driven them off to parts unknown after letting some of the men that were with him take what they needed for retribution for what was owed them.

Apparently, Royce was into taking shit that didn't belong to him, including wives, daughters, mothers; anything he saw that he fancied, he trampled someone else to get.

It's been three years, and Law was still biding his time; still trying to find that one loophole that would let him get close enough to burn the fucker; but since he knew he was a marked man, Royce was playing it safe.

Now, as he made the turn off for his place, he brought his thoughts back to the present and the new shit he'd found himself embroiled in.

It hadn't been intentional, but ever since word had spread a couple years ago about his don't give a fuck attitude where the law was concerned, the residents of the little town where he'd grown up had been coming to him for help with all kinds of shit.

In the beginning, he wasn't interested; his only interest had been in his own vengeance, getting justice for the blood of his slain family.

But since that hadn't been forthcoming and wasn't about to without his doing, he started taking on more and more of their shit.

The girl had crawled onto his property very early in the morning; he had no idea who she was at first, but when one of the others had recognized her, he'd said who her people were.

Law wasn't too familiar with the girl and her family, though he'd heard a lot of talk about her just lately because apparently the dad was a bit of a bully. It was hard for him to look at her and not think of the little sister he'd lost.

It hurt like fuck to think about Shelly, what had been done to her, the terror she must've felt in those last few minutes of her life.

He'd loved that little girl with her sparkling wit and her hero-worship of the big brother that had always looked out for her.

Now it seemed he had another young girl under his care. He sighed long and hard as he thought about what was to be done next. He didn't know if the asshole was going to come after his family at some point, but he was a hundred percent sure that they weren't going back.

The mother, if she were one of those cowed women who believed in forgiving the abusive asshole and chose to go back, he maybe wouldn't stop her, but the young girl, no fucking way.

She could make that choice when she became an adult. But since she'd come to him, they'll do things his way.