But the blinding rage that he’d seen on Sawyer’s face after he managed to explain what happened was something he would never forget. It was a miracle Sawyer hadn’t gone after Jimmy already. Ethan also knew Sawyer had never said a word to their brothers because Ethan knew Travis would’ve probably done something they would’ve all regretted.
“No, I don’t think I did,” Sawyer answered loudly, moving closer.
“Come on, boys,” Mack hollered from behind the bar. “Not in here.”
No one seemed to pay the bartender any mind, especially not Sawyer.
And that’s when Ethan realized he’d have been better off staying at home.
The anger pumping through Beau’s veins was making his vision hazy. He’d heard the words, but he didn’t even have time to process the voice to know whom it belonged to. And he’d immediately turned to face the crowd near the door where everyone’s attention was now focused, but before he could make it very far, he was tucked at the back of a group of pissed off Walker males.
Sawyer was in front, his cowboy hat sitting low on his head, shielding his face, but the balled up fists at his sides and the hatred in his tone was unmistakable. The guy was pissed. Possibly angrier than Beau had ever seen him.
Behind him, Zane, Brendon, Braydon, Jared, and Kaleb looked like linebackers as they too took careful steps forward, coming around to circle Sawyer when he stopped a few feet short of the table.
Beau caught movement and noticed Ethan had eased away from him and was standing next to Travis and Gage who’d carried up the rear, looking damn ready to rip some heads off.
“Care to repeat it, Reardon?” Sawyer asked, his voice low and deadly.
The scene wasn’t new to Beau, but seeing all of the Walker brothers standing practically shoulder to shoulder, their six-foot-five-plus frames taking up any available real estate was an intimidating sight, that was for damn sure.
Beau moved in closer, coming to stand next to Zane. Ready and willing to jump in if he needed to. In fact, he was burning for a fight, something he hadn’t done in years. And these foul mouthed mother fuckers were beginning to piss him off.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Jimmy said, keeping his head low, his body obviously braced for a fight.
“I don’t give a fuck who you were talking to, boy.”
Another chair scraped across the hardwood as Jimmy got to his feet. “Who the fuck are you callin’ boy?”
Sawyer’s chest bowed up and his arms bulged as he went nose to nose with Jimmy. It was clear to Beau that there had to be bad blood between the two men. They were staring one another down like they were geared up to kill each other. Sure, a comment the likes of which Reardon spouted could undeniably trigger retaliation, but this was more. This seemed… personal.
“Lay off the boy, Walker,” an older man sitting in the corner said.
“No can do, Charlie,” Sawyer answered simply, his head never turning, which meant his eyes never left Jimmy’s face. Beau almost felt sorry for the prick. Almost. It would serve him right to have to go toe to toe with Sawyer.
Beau didn’t know much about Jimmy Reardon, other than the guy liked to run off at the mouth. If he remembered correctly, Jimmy had a younger brother, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the guy. For some reason he wanted to say there was a story there, but he couldn’t get his brain to function long enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Beau’s attention was redirected when Ricky Dillinger pushed his chair back, his eyes darting around the room. Beau followed his gaze until he noticed where it landed… on Ethan. He was standing beside Travis, his arms crossed over his expansive chest, his eyes narrowed and intent.
“No, bullshit. Sit your fucking ass down,” one of the other guys at the table mumbled when Ricky started to rise to his feet.
“We don’t want no trouble, man. Fucking sit down, Reardon.”
“Looks to me like you should choose your friends more wisely if you’re not lookin’ for trouble,” Sawyer mouthed, never moving a muscle as he faced off with Jimmy.
It was clear to Beau that Sawyer was itching for a fight. Never mind the fact that no one else seemed to know whom Jimmy was mouthing off to. No one except Ethan. And Beau only knew because Ethan had told him that Ricky had spouted the same bullshit before. Coincidence? Definitely not.
Then again, Zane had mentioned Ethan’s name, calling him out in the middle of the bar. Would people put two and two together?
“Fucking cocksucker,” Ricky murmured, probably thinking no one could hear and presumably hoping he’d have Jimmy to stand behind. Since the bar was eerily quiet, the words lingered in the still air.