There's No Place Like Rhodes (Book 2)

Wrestling with a Giant

Every time. Every goddamn time.

Usually, it was his own goddamn fault, but for once Arthur had been keeping his nose clean. Turned out, none of his recent decisions mattered and he should have known better than to lower his guard. After all, Dorsch had been out for him since day one.

One more goddamn day was all that was left before they returned to peace and Dorsch had to jump in and ruin it. Only minutes ago, Arthur had committed fully to delving into the life he'd started to carve for himself with Charlotte. And, as usual, another chance at his happiness was challenged by the mistakes of his past. Trouble followed him like a dog on a scent and the law never strayed from the lead.

Beside him, fear had widened Charlotte's eyes as she stared at Dorsch in disbelief. Even this devilry too extreme for her to believe of her own father.

If Arthur were to think reasonably, Dorsch wasn't doing nothing wrong. It ain't the first displeased family Arthur had had to deal with. Their daughter was in a relationship with a dirty outlaw and Dorsch ain't the first daddy to be against that.

"I don't know what the hell you're going on about," Arthur finally told Dorsch in response to his threat of handing him over to the law.

"Don't you?" came Dorsch's mocking reply.

Arthur clenched his teeth together with the barest hold on his temper. Just when he'd decided it was more worthwhile to play nice for a few days, this bastard chose to not leave well enough alone. Dorsch stood in his way, threatening him and describing with pleasure how Arthur would be escorted downtown to answer for his crimes.

Arthur got to thinking of how this was gonna play out. Him thrown in jail and locked up for good. Charlotte wasting her time desperately trying to get him out, all the while pregnant and miserably imprisoned herself in a life she'd long rejected. There was no in-between. Anger, a raw fury the likes of which he hadn't embraced in a long while, rose from its slumber.

Arthur could contain himself no longer as he locked on Dorsch and growled out, "You goddamn lowlife son of a bitch!"

One moment Dorsch's mouth was upturned in a derisive smirk, the next Arthur was swinging a fist, making heavy contact and breaking that condescending smile.

After Arthur stunned the other man with a decking, he clamped both hands on Dorsch's jacket, hauled him around and pinned him against the in-wall bookshelves. Arthur's rough-handling rattled the glass bottles on a wheeled cart and set askew a painting at Dorsch's back.

"Arthur!" Charlotte's shocked voice called from a distance under his roaring rage, but he was done with this asshole thinking he could be controlled.

Arthur pulled his right arm back, ready to knock some more teeth loose. As he made to pitch a second punch, another arm caught his elbow and Ben pulled on him. Before Arthur could wretch himself away, Clark was on his other side and the brothers yanked him back from their father together.

"Beastly," Dorsch remarked as he whipped a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped blood from his lip.

Arthur snarled, "Fight like a goddamn man and I'll show you beastly."

Charlotte stepped in front of him, capturing her father's attention, while simultaneously giving Arthur pause. His temper simmered as he'd have to knock her out of the way if he wanted to earnestly get to Dorsch again.

Charlotte asked in a brisk tone, "What is it you want, Father?"

His eyes drifted to her. "I want my daughter to desist consorting with degenerate scum."

Arthur clenched his fists again and Ben's hand tightened on his arm in warning.

"As you've made abundantly clear," Charlotte said, "but I object to that designation."