Page 3 of Colt

“You’re a dead man,” Dog snarled, finding his balance.

“Bring it,” the dude retorted in a low, toneless voice.

I caught a flash of black creeping up on him from behind. Before I could warn the stranger, Ratchet grabbed my bud around his throat.

Thrash slowly got to his feet and rounded on me. A smirk covered Dog’s face as he threw a sucker punch, making me drop to my knees with a groan.

Thrash tugged my hair and yanked my head back. “Say adios, motherfucker.”

My eyes fell on the stranger, standing taller than the Sinner who had hold of him. With a roar, he broke Ratchet’s hold, twisted around, gripped each side of the enforcer’s head, and headbutted him hard.

“Watch your back, kid,” I shouted, but it was too late. Dog punched the stranger in the kidney before grabbing him and slamming him chest first into the bar.

The stranger gave a pained grunt, then smashed his head back into Dog’s face, making him fly backward. My new bud whirled around and followed with a punch to the jaw, then another, until Dog yelled in pain and crumpled to the floor.

Jesus Christ. This kid was the shit.

Thrash’s arm tightened around my throat while Ratchet rushed the stranger. The kid spun around, leaped into the air, and caught the enforcer across the face with a roundhouse kick.

“You’re dead, you fuck,” Thrash roared.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I reached into my pocket, pulled out my gun, stood to my full height, and butted it against Thrash’s temple, releasing the safety with aclick.“Really? ’Cause it seems like you’re the one swimming in a big pool of shit right now, Thrashy boy.”

He froze, his arm falling from around my neck.

The stranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a Glock as Dog moaned from the floor. My new bud pulled his boot back and kicked him hard in the head.

I watched in morbid fascination as an angry graze bloomed across the Sinner’s skin before he passed out.

Catching the kid’s eye, I moved to his side, my stare gliding toward Thrash, who stood rigid with fear. “This is the only warnin’ you’re gonna get. Keep your business, and your pervert son outta Hambleton, or next time it’ll be more than two of us. Feel me?”

Thrash’s eyes slid over his two brothers, still knocked out on the floor, and jerked a nod.

“Y’all take care now.” I glanced at the kid and gestured toward the main doors of the bar in a silent command.

We approached the exit, leaving the other prez to bring his guys around.

My hand went to my shoulder, trying to see how nasty the wound was. Judging by how much blood covered my fingers when I pulled them away, it was cut pretty deep. It didn’t bother me though, my ol’ lady was good with a needle. I just had to get back to the compound without being shot at by a Sinner, ‘cause I had no doubt Thrash was already rallying the troops.

The warm night air smelled fragrant, a relief after the stench of booze and sweat from back inside the bar. The place was situated just outside Mapletree in the middle of nowhere, so at least we didn’t have anyone nosing into our business.

The stranger pulled some keys from his pocket, twirling them around his finger as he headed toward a beat-up old Harley Bad Boy.

“Hey,” I called to his back. “Thanks for your help in there.”

He stopped, turning to face me. “You gonna be okay? Your shoulder’s bleeding like a motherfucker.”

“It’s just a scratch,” I assured him. “Where did you learn to fight like that? Military?”

He nodded. “Yeah, and boarding school.”

Laughter bubbled up. This guy was a trip. “Where are you headin’? It’s probably safer for you to get outta Mapletree. After what just went down, the Sinners will be gunning for both our asses.”

The kid ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “I’ll find a motel and bunk down for the night.”

Suddenly, the clouds parted, and a beam of moonlight shone down on the kid, lighting him up. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Dark blond hair, blue eyes, tall, and built. He had swagger, no doubt some residue from his military training.

“Good luck, man,” he said, jerking his chin before turning back toward his bike.

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