He ignored the comment and got to the reason he was there.
“What do you know that I don’t? What secret are you keepin’ for her?”
“Oh, I see,” he chuckled snidely. “Holdin’ out on you, is she?”
“Don’t fuck with me. What secret of hers is safe with you?”
His smirk stretched into a knowing smile before he replied, “Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be safe, would it?”
Twister’s knuckles connected with Scorpion’s cheek before the man could react. He hadn’t hit back the night before, but Twister wasn’t dumb. Scorpion might have been pushing fifty, but he wasn’t weak. If they were going to go to blows, Twister had every intention of giving himself the upper hand. He was on the verge of swinging for a second time, wanting to strike while Scorpion was still recovering, but Bull’s voice from across the room stopped him.
“Hold up,” he called from where he stood in the open doorway, Maverick right behind him. “What’s goin’ on here?”
Scorpion laughed, and it pissed Twister off enough that he couldn’t hold back. He hit the man again, invoking more laughter.
“Tell me what I need to know before I beat the livin’ shit outta you,” he yelled.
“Surprised you’ve lasted this long as second in command with a temper like you’ve got,” said Scorpion, still feigning amusement as he wiped at his bloody nose.
He still hadn’t made a move to defend himself, and Twister was on the verge of hitting him again, but a hand on his shoulder distracted him. He looked back to find Maverick was no longer across the room.
Maverick shook his head once, but it was Bull who spoke next. He, too, had crossed the room while Twister wasn’t looking. Glancing between both men with a scowl denoting curiosity more than frustration, Bull paused before he settled his gaze on his VP.
“Fact of the matter is, you don’t have a hot temper. What’s this about?”
“Seems to me he’s worried about his pretty little redhead,” replied Scorpion.
Twister was so amped up he could feel his rage as if it was alive underneath his skin. He hated the way Scorpion talked about her—as if he knew her. But how could he? He was locked up before the bar was even built.
“If you don’t start talkin’—”
“Just tell the man what he wants to know,” muttered Dog.
Scorpion hesitated a moment longer, his eyes bouncing around the room. Twister didn’t shift his focus for a single second, which was how he saw it when the jailbird acknowledged he was outnumbered.
“Fine,” he said, wiping at his still bleeding nose a second time. “Told you last night, she’s wicked with a knife. Almost adecade ago, watched her kill a man with one. Little thing like her? Hell, it was a sight to behold.”
Instantly, the rage threatening to boil over inside of Twister not thirty seconds ago disappeared, leaving behind an odd hollow feeling as he tried to make sense of what Scorpion was saying.
“Phoenixkilledsomeone?” asked Maverick, sounding as taken aback as Twister was.
“Where? Who?” Bull asked at the same time.
“Happened down in Cheyenne behind the bar where she used to work. Didn’t ask for details. Didn’t really care.”
Twister furrowed his brow. It didn’t add up—the story Scorpion told and what he witnessed the night before. Not completely.
“So, what?” he began, finding his words. “You watched it go down and that’s it?”
Scorpion was smirking again when he said, “Course not. I was a perfect gentleman. Cleaned up her mess.”
A weight heavier than a rock settled in his stomach, Twister somehow sure of the answer before he could find the words to ask the question.
“In exchange for what?” he bit through clenched teeth.
Now grinning, Scorpion replied, “Somethin’ tells me you don’t want me to answer that.”
Just as fast as his rage had vanished, it came back. He lunged toward the man, ready to pummel him into the ground. He landed only one punch before Scorpion took a swing at him in return. He aimed true, the knuckles of his fist connecting just below Twister’s temple. The blow was a hard one, but it didn’t stop the fight.