Page 71 of Salute, To Bravery
“Pass, my piss tastes better,” Owl said snarkily.
“Wow, that is rude,” the waitress exclaimed.
“But true. Whatever you’re pedalling, we don’t want. Skedaddle,” Bat ordered.
“Ske—a what now?”
“Get lost,” Bat growled out, losing all patience.
“Fine!” she snapped and fluffed her hair before storming away. I watched as the Rage president exchanged glances with someone.
“Owl, Worm, stay here, Bat and Raddock on me,” I said as Jay left the bar with the stranger. Ten to one it was Jay pedalling drugs, and the barman worked for him. We followed them outside and kept to the shadows as Jay walked across to a supped-up Audi and stopped with the stranger at the trunk.
Before our eyes, the guy I thought was a dealer reached in and pulled a package out, which he gave to Jay. In return, Jay handed him a fat envelope.
“Raddock, take Jay around the back,” I ordered as Bat and I moved forward.
Jay and the dealer began moving as we approached, and Raddock leapt forward, got Jay in an armlock, and marched him away. Jay’s loud protestations hit our ears before Raddock shoved a handkerchief in his mouth. I didn’t even have time to wonder where the hell Raddock had found that before Bat had hold of the seller.
“Whatever your issue is, you’re messing with the wrong man,” the dealer threatened, bulking up.
“Dude, I can snap you in half, shut the fuck up,” Bat said, laughing.
The idiot pulled a gun, and within the blink of an eye, I’d disarmed him, leaving him gaping at his empty hand.
“Listen up, asshole. I’m ex-Special Forces, and I’ve faced kids with more balls than you. This is my bar, and I have a real problem with snakes like you. No dealers allowed anymore. Drugs are prohibited here, understand? Because I’m in a good mood, I’ll be letting you go with a warning. Push me, and you’ll be six feet under by the end of tonight. See, I ain’t got an issue putting a bullet in a scumbag’s brain. Did it for a living for twelve years,” I threatened.
The guy visibly deflated as I spoke, but he still had the balls to argue. “This is one of my boss’s best patches. He ain’t gonna like this,” he said.
“Tell your boss this bar is now owned and under the control of the good old United States Army. He wants a war, bring it, but he better come weapon-heavy because he is up against Special Forces, Marines, Rangers, and who knows what else I have in my MC. If he wants a war, fuckin’ make sure he brings his best,” I snarled.
“I’ll speak to him,” the guy replied, gulping.
“You better, and I want his name,” I demanded.
“Santos. He runs the crime around here. Santos is well known,” the idiot said hopefully.
“Dude, I faced women with homemade bombs, survived an IED explosion and a rocket attack. I lost a leg to that shit; think your prick of a scum-sucking boss frightens me?”
“No,” came the stuttering reply.
“Now I’m gonna be real nice. Keep your money and don’t return. If I see you again, I won’t be so welcoming,” I warned.
Bat grabbed his shirt and shoved him towards the Audi, and we watched him scramble in and peel out.
I turned and found the green-eyed guy from Rage watching me.
“Ain’t your shit they’re dealing,” he stated. I clocked his name as Ace, and his patch stated he was VP.
“The fuck it is, and if you’re working for this Santos, then politely, get the hell off my land,” I replied calmly.
Ace stared me down, and I held his gaze. He finally let out a dry chuckle. “Couple of mine giving yours a hand,” he said, jerking his chin to the back of the bar where Raddock had disappeared.
“My brother better be unhurt,” I warned.
“You were telling the truth just then?” Ace asked.
“Let’s find out,” I retorted.
