Renegade: The Alliance Chronicles, Book Six

Chapter One

Mark

"Do you want to know why loving your best friend is hard? It only takes one push to either make you fall harder or destroy your friendship."

—from "It Happens: When Friendship Turns to Love" by Dr. E. Rich

I'm a shitty friend...the shittiest.

After a two-year disappearance without an ounce of communication, I reach out. It took all hell breaking loose for me to contact him. In my opinion, that makes me pretty damned despicable.

Despite my disreputable behavior, I still consider myself to be Asher Jones's best friend. I'd do anything for him. All that he's asked me to do, however, is to stay out of trouble. I tried. For some reason, I tend to be a magnet for tricky situations. Always have been.

Back in the days when I used to run the streets with my cousin Griffin, I committed my fair share of petty crimes—shoplifting and jacking cars—while getting bent and drunk. That kind of shit came easy to me.

But when Asher came along, I tried to change. He balanced out my rough edges. No matter how hard I wanted to be a better person, I failed. Instead of being the beacon of hope Asher needed, I was the gateway to delinquency. Still... We had a hell of a lot of fun doing it.

"Callahan, don't you have something else to do besides staring at me? Like a date with a fucking scrub brush and a bar of soap!" I scream from inside the dusty, dank jail cell, which is surprisingly cleaner than my jailer.

"You's lucky ya got friends in high places, Carter." His backwoods twang grates my ears. "Shoulda let my men beat the shit out of ya."

The leader of the Ohio militia tilts a tattered, red baseball cap back on his greasy head and spits a wad of something brown on the floor. My eyes follow the ambling movements of the man dressed in oil-smeared jeans, a ripped flannel shirt, and a jacket encrusted with layers upon layers of dirt. I note the filth beneath his nails as his hand grasps the bars of the cell.

"Ya know, I don't let folks come up in here tearing my town apart. Ya, damn lucky, Carter."

The foulness ejected from Callahan's mouth sits in my line of vision. I walk to the far side of the jail cell, trying to ignore the grossness, but I swear the substance grows legs and follows me.

I take a seat on the rusty metal bench attached to the wall. My thoughts race back to the bloodied and battered man I left on the floor of the bar. It wasn't like the fool didn't have it coming. He shouldn't have shot his mouth off. When I warned him about his disrespect, he should have walked away. Can't blame me for his stupidity.

"Can I at least get something to drink?" It would be at least eight hours before Asher arrives in Defiance. "And not any of that tainted water either."

Callahan's lips twist, revealing a mouth full of decay. "Guess ya gonna be parched then. See ya when the sun comes up."

The nasty ass prick turns off the lights and leaves me with the glow of the moon, just enough light for me to see my breath. I zip my leather jacket all the way up and dig my hands into the pockets.

Sliding into the corner, I cross my arms over my chest and close my eyes. Maybe I'll dream of someplace hot.

§

Morning comes too damned soon, and with it comes the smell of rotting garbage and ass.

Callahan.

Shit! I hoped my being in Defiance was all a dream.

My eyes flutter open in time to see him unlocking the door.