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The next evening, Jethro ducked behind a building near the location of his first fight. He waited, listening for footsteps or any sign that he was being followed. This wasn’t a good part of town, and he didn’t trust Vickers.
He continued down the alley. No one would expect him to follow this route. If the lawyer was setting him up it’d be a big mistake. It’d been almost two weeks since he’d had his shot, and he felt like he could take anyone. He paused, his nose twitching at the scent of bodies, a lot of them. The sounds of voices drifted toward him with the evening breeze.
He moved farther into the shadows. There was no shame in running from an ambush. Right now, he wasn’t strong enough to take on a group. He waited but the voices didn’t get any closer. He stayed in the shad
