Page 19 of Sins of the Fathers
“Get out of our way,” Dawson growled.They want a fight? Let’s get this party started.
The bouncer swung, Dawson ducked and brought his boot up sharply into the big man’s nuts, following up with an elbow to the neck as the man sagged to the ground.
The bystanders with HDF patches surged forward, and then Dawson and Grady were in the thick of things, fists flying.
A man launched himself at Grady from atop the bar, and Grady grabbed him by the arm, stepping aside and flipping him to land hard on the floor. Dawson saw the glint of a blade and dodged, letting the knife slide through his sleeve but miss cutting deeply into his arm. He pulled his own knife, leaving his attacker with a slice across the chest that would hurt like hell but not be life-threatening.
Grady’s left hook flattened one man, but he took a punch in return that sent him staggering. Dawson kicked Grady’s attacker in the side of the knee, hearing a satisfying snap as the man went down howling.
Two more bikers came at Dawson, while a guy big enough to be two people went after Grady. Dawson managed to dodge another knife thrust, twisting the attacker’s arm until he felt the joint pop. It seemed their opponents were used to winning on size and strength without real training, a weakness Dawson knew he could use.
“Watch out!” Grady shouted as a guy the size of a refrigerator lunged at Dawson, swinging a nightstick.
Dawson threw himself to one side, missing the worst of the strike. He heard a loud crunch as a chair broke over fridge-guy’s head, and the big man went down. The tall stranger still held the top of the ruined chair.
“Fun times,” he said to Dawson with a grin, wading into the fray to clock an incoming biker with a punch that spun him around before he fell heavy on a table and broke it in half.
Grady and the redhead were surrounded by three men with knives. While the big men had bulk and muscle, Grady and his new friend were fast and wiry and clearly had martial arts training.
One of the giants swung a ham-sized fist at Grady’s head. Grady went low, grabbed his arm, and pulled the guy across his back to land flat on the floor with a thud that shook the whole bar. Red had grabbed a full bottle of beer and wielded it like a cudgel to the back of one guy’s head, then swept his feet out from under him as the biker stumbled.
The patrons who weren’t hardcore HDF either fled while they had the chance or hung back to watch the fight.
A shotgun blast rang out, and Dawson flinched, expecting pain and blood.
“That’s enough! Drop your weapons, or the next one doesn’t miss.” The bartender had a “fuck around and find out” glint in his eyes and a shotgun in his hands that had just put a hole through the dartboard.
Dawson laid his knife at his feet but wasn’t about to reveal his hidden arsenal.
“Cops are on the way,” the bartender announced. “So if any of y’all are on parole, got a court date coming up, or can’t make bail, you’d best leave now.”
Sirens outside made the threat real. Two men bolted for the back door, but three armed deputies came through the back as the sheriff and another officer entered, guns raised, from the front.
“What the fuck is going on?” Sheriff Rollins growled. He scowled when he saw the tall man and the redhead holding up badges.
“Agent Bartlett Gibson, Tennessee Bureau of Supernatural Investigation,” the tall man said.
“Agent RJ Tucker, TBSI,” the redhead echoed.
“Happened to be in the right place to stop an armed brawl,” Gibson said smoothly, not appearing to notice how the fed badges made Rollins’s eye twitch.
Interesting that he’s not mentioning the HDF connection,Dawson thought.Is that the case that brought them here?
Gibson’s nonchalance seemed to intensify the sheriff’s ire as he turned his attention to Dawson and Grady.
“Why am I not surprised to find a couple of Kings in the thick of things? Why the hell are you here?” Rollins barked.
“Trying to find out who roofied Knox. This guy all but admitted it,” Dawson added with a none-too-gentle “nudge” with his foot against one of the downed attackers, “and I’m betting one of their buddies snuck into the hospital to try to poison him.”
“And in case you missed it, they’re HDF assholes,” Grady chimed in. Rollins looked ready to pop, although Dawson wasn’t sure what part of the situation had him on the verge of losing his temper.
“Sheriff!” Everyone turned to look at Gibson. “How about you get these scumbags into custody and book them. I’m claiming jurisdiction. We’ll be in touch.”
Rollins opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut with murder in his eyes. He turned to the rowdy barflies. “All right you sons of bitches—hands in front of you, weapons down. Twitch the wrong way, and I’ll taser your asses until you glow like Christmas lights.”
“I’ll handle the Kings,” Gibson added. Rollins’s eyebrows shot up, and Dawson thought the sheriff might have an aneurysm.
“Excuse me?”
