Page 55 of Making the King

Not wasting time, I leap off the ground and make my way toward the area I think the women are hiding. On my way I come across Cain, who’s laughing victoriously as he swings his bat into the head of one of the nomads.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says to me.

“Fucking loco,” I mumble. But then I remember where I’m headed. “Are the Diamonds okay?”

Cain shrugs. “No idea. But I fucking hope so.”

The murderous glint in his eyes is downright psychopathic when paired with the joker-like smile he’s sporting.

Before I can move again, Cain holds his hand out to stop me. “Here,” he hands me a knife. “Something tells me you’re good with one of those. So give them hell and don’t let them fucking capture you. I’d hate to kill you for doing something as stupid as getting yourself womannapped.”

Taking the blade, I nod. “Later, loco,” I say.

Leaving Cain, I continue my search for the Diamonds. By now, their screams are coming from all directions, and I’m unsure where to go.

More gunshots ring out, but this time no one falls to the floor.

I narrowly manage to escape a fist swinging in my direction, but I’m not quick enough to see the second hand coming out, wrapping around my throat.

“Gotcha!”

Rocco

The screech of my tires is loud as my truck slides sideways into the parking lot of Dirty Diamonds. Gunner holds on for dear life, but he should know better than to be scared of my fucking driving. I’ve become an expert over the years, and the pelting rain only adds to the maneuverability.

“Gun ready,” I hiss, and I slam on the brakes, my eyes scanning the parking lot past the windshield wipers to make out the numerous figures running out from the club entrance.

“There!” Gunner yells, pointing out the windshield, but I don’t need his direction. My eyes have already honed in on the fucker dragging my wife by her hair as she kicks out, trying to get away.

He’s a fucking dead man walking!

Throwing my door open, I tug my automatic shotgun from under my seat and leap from my truck, aiming at a leather cut wearing motherfucker who aims his handgun at me, and I pull the trigger.

The boom is loud, and I ignore the vision of the gaping hole in his chest as he flies backward, thumping to the drenched asphalt, before I step over him.

I continue shooting as I go, hitting a few of the nomad gang before my aim is off, missing another fucker as he charges out of the club doors.

A loud crack pierces the air before the asshole’s back arches and he’s thrown forward right before Tex steps out of the club entrance with his shotgun.

Grinning at my friend, he gives me a nod before we both turn our sights on my cursing wife, her insults not for the fainthearted as the cunt-faced prick manages to drag her up to a bike.

A war cry sounds as Gray comes charging from the back of the building toward my woman, but a nomad steps in his path, stopping him, and they start swinging fists.

My target is clear as I elbow an asshole that comes at me from the side, and as he stumbles back, I aim and shoot.

I grin at his stunned expression as the bullet practically eviscerates his throat.

Cara’s insults draw me back to her, and as I storm across the lot, I watch my warrior queen as she fights back as best she can, kicking her attacker in the shin before she slips on the wet ground, losing her momentum.

The motherfucker still has her by her long dark hair and it pisses me the fuck off.

That is my hair to fucking fist! Not his!

“Hey!” I boom, and his head jerks up in time to see the barrel of my gun, only three feet away. I pull the trigger.

Cara squeals in fright at the sound as blood and brain matter rain over her. Panicked, she shuffles back on her hands trying to get away from the carnage.

Standing over her, I look down and admire how much of a fucking warrior she is. Not just a warrior but a queen, with blood coating her face as the rain washes through it, running down her neck and down between her tits.

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