Page 7 of Cupid's Alpha
4
Drew
I watchEmilia as she walks out of the room. Her ass sways from side to side with each step. I can’t wait to get her alone and naked. But that’s going to have to wait. Right now, I’ve got business to take care of.
Reaching under the sink, I pull out a Glock. I put it there yesterday when I brought Emilia and Abbie home. You never know when you need quick access to a firearm. Especially when there’s a bunch of wannabe gangstas running around with murder on their minds.
“It go-time?” Nana Betty says.
She’s in her wheelchair with a double-barrelled shotgun on her lap. I can't help but grin.
“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” I say.
“What does it look like? You may be the big special forces man, but this is my damn house too, and I ain't about to let some creeps come in here and scare those precious young girls.”
It’s not worth arguing with her. Nana Betty does what she wants. Always has. I could stand here talking until I’m blue in the face, and she wouldn’t listen to a word of it.
“Alright,” I say. “You go and wait in the hall. Try and keep to the shadows so they won't see you if they look through the window. If anyone comes through the door, you blow them straight to hell.”
An amused grin spreads across her wrinkled face. “No need telling me what to do. This ain't my first rodeo, you know.”
I shake my head, glad that she’s on my side. “Alright, and be careful. These guys mean business.”
She waves me away with her withered old hand and wheels herself into the hall.
I walk to the back door. Put my hand on the knob. Take a deep breath.
It’s important to keep a cool head. One wrong move and I could end up six feet under.
It’s been a few years since I’ve seen any gunplay. I’m outnumbered. Outgunned. But not outmatched.
“Alright,” I mutter to myself, “here goes nothing.”
I turn the knob and step out into the yard. I keep my hands in the air where they can see them.
“You gentleman want something?” I say.
A large guy in a suit pops his head up from behind a bush to my left. He’s got slicked-back hair and a shit-eating grin.
I notice some movement to my right. And then another man walks out from the trees straight ahead of me.
Three of them. One more than I thought. I must be getting slow.
“We’re here for the girls,” the tall man in front of me says, “you hand them over, and we’ll let you live.”
I take a few steps forward, not liking the angles.
One of them tells me to stop moving, but I remind him that this is my yard and I’ll do whatever the heck I damn well please.
He doesn’t like that much, but my hands are still in the air and I’ve got a friendly smile on my face. Apart from the gun clenched in my hand, I seem to be acting polite and reasonable.
“You’ll let me live?” I say. “That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing. How about you boys turn around and head home before one of you gets hurt. Either that or you'll be going home in a body bag.”
The fat man cracks his knuckles and starts walking towards me. It’s exactly what I wanted. He’s closing the gaps. Putting them all within my line of fire.
“You think you're pretty tough,” the man says, “you won’t be talking like that once we’re through with you.”
“And you won't be talking at all once I put a bullet in your head,” I say.
