“Anyone else want to walk?” Butch asked, looking pointedly at the teen who had first said he was leaving. When no one replied, Butch ordered them to get back to work. “That means you, too,” Butch said, pulling Ken to his feet.
“Damn, man,” Vin spat out. “He in no condition…” His words were cut short when the driver hit him hard in the ribs with the club.
“Anyone else have anything to say?” Butch asked with a feral grin.
Davie had a lot to say, but kept quiet. He went to Vin instead, helping him straighten up and walk back to where they’d been working before everything had gone down. “Did he break your ribs?” he asked.
Vin shook his head. “Don’t think so. Fractured, maybe. Given what my dad’s punks did to me, this is nothing.”