Distortion

April 6 - Him

"Best listen to her, Ethan." A deep voice startled me out of my rage. "She's about to clock you."

Ethan grabbed my arm again, and his grip tightened. I winced. He was digging his dirt-encrusted fingernails into my skin. I twisted in his grasp to get a better view of that voice.

Oh. My. Word.

A black hat fit as though molded to his head, deep mahogany hair curled up just below the rim. A well-worn leather gun belt slung low across his slim hips. His eyes were a bright translucent blue but radiated a toughness I'd never seen in guys my age before. His eyes actually aged him.

The way his hand rested casually on the butt of his gun, the way he stood so confident even though he was younger than the guy holding me, made me wonder if these situations were common for him.

Standing before me was a real life Adonis straight from a Greek myth. I was about to be attacked, or worse, and all I could do was stare at the guy like an idiot. No one could be this good looking—there had to be something wrong with him.

"Yer always sticking your nose where it don't belong," Ethan gnarled. "I liked it better when you were gone."

"Yeah, me too," The boy mumbled as he repositioned his stance, moving his weight to his left hip, and adjusting the brim of his hat to block the sun. "Seriously though, why are you still here? There aren't jobs. Move away, go to Denver and find work. Preferably something with a high mortality rate." His voice was controlled, but impatient like he'd been in the middle of something before and needed to get back to it.

Ethan snorted, and a bit of chew tumbled down his chin. "Figures. You think you can just stroll into town and we'll all just fall down and lick your boots? I read the papers—"

"You can read?" The boy sounded surprised, and that little smile that pulled up only one corner of his mouth made it even harder to look away. His hand didn't leave his gun.

Ethan narrowed his eyes at him. "This ain't Leadville. You ain't the biggest toad in the puddle. Me and the lady were havin' a chat, so you just be on your way." His two drinking buddies stepped forward as if to underline his statement.

The boy ignored Ethan's threat. "Listen," he said. "You know I won't walk away." His eyes flickered over to me for a second then back to Ethan. "You're turning her arm red." His voice was heating up. "If you don't let her go I'm gonna make you. Are those simple enough words for you?"

Ethan laughed. It didn't look like he owned a toothbrush. "You're gonna have to go through Zeke and Luther first." He spit more chew out of the side of his mouth, and some of it slopped onto my dress. I did my best to avert my eyes.

There was no way this guy was going to be able to fight three men; they looked about five, maybe ten years older than him.

"Really?" The boy shook his head. "I'm disappointed, Ethan. We've known each other long enough not to have to involve your shadows, don't you think?" Zeke and Luther advanced. There were drunk, but sobering quickly. "Okay," he conceded with a shrug, finally moving his hand from the butt of his gun. "I'm open to this option too."

With amazing speed he reached for Luther, punching him in the jaw with so much force Luther reeled backwards, hitting his head on an iron water pump. He crumpled to the ground unconscious. Zeke grabbed him in a choke hold from behind. Without pause the boy pushed himself backwards, slamming Zeke against the side of the building. He whirled around and grabbed Zeke's hair. Bringing his knee up, simultaneously pulled Zeke's head down, knocking him into a slumber along with his friend.

"Whoa." I hadn't meant to say that out loud; it just kinda slipped.

The boy's heated look grazed me like I was breaking his concentration and he wanted me to shut up.