Page 34 of Volt
“I can. I just don’t feel like it right now.”
“You can either put on your big boy pants and talk to her, or you can spend the rest of your days miserable, alone, and sitting outside a bar pining for the girl.”
“Don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sure, she may tell you to kick rocks, but she might also be waiting for you to come sweep her off her feet.”
I shake my head but grin despite myself. “Still don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s not good to bottle shit up, man. I read once—”
His voice cuts off so suddenly, my gut clenches, fearing that something’s wrong. From my position down the hill, I can’t see the van and feel a nauseous churning in my gut.
“Adam,” I whisper into the mic. “Adam, what’s happened?”
“You should come up here and join us,” a cold voice comes through my earpiece.
“Who is this?” I ask.
“Come up and join us, or your friend here gets two in the head,” he replies. “You’ve got five seconds.”
“Okay, okay,” I stammer. “I’m comin’ up.”
“And leave any weapons down at your position.”
“Yeah, fine.”
Leaving my sidearm on the ground next to the mic, I get to my feet and climb the hill. And when I get to the top, my heart sinks straight into my gut. Two men, dressed in the same black tactical gear and carrying the same MP69s as Zavala’s guards, are standing there. One has Adam up against the van, the barrel of his weapon pointed straight at his face, the other with his weapon pointed at mine.
“Mask. Pull it off,” the guy with his gun trained on me says. “Slowly.”
Moving deliberately, I pull the balaclava off my head and toss it to the ground at my feet. I hadn’t considered the possibility that Zavala had countersurveillance in place. I should have. I cut a glance at Adam, and he looked more annoyed than scared in the moment. They’d roughed him up a bit. His nose was spilling blood down his face and his eye was swollen, but he didn’t seem to have any other injuries.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Fine,” he growled.
“Who the fuck are you guys?” asked the man with his weapon on me. “And why are you watching Mr. Zavala’s house?”
“We’re not,” I answer. “We’re amateur bird-watchers.”
The guy closed the distance between us in the blink of an eye and drives the butt of his weapon into my gut. I double over as the air is forced from my lungs and before I can draw a breath, he brings his knee up with force. The explosion of pain in my nose is intense and blinding—all I can see for a moment is a bright white light. Warm viscous blood flows down my face and its coppery taste fills my mouth. Forcing myself to stand up, my vision clears and as I stare him in the eye, I spit a gob of blood on the ground at his feet. He smirks.
“Tough guy, huh?” he asks.
“Drop the weapon and let’s find out,” I say. “See, I got a real good idea that without that steel in your hand, you’re nothin’ but a pussy.”
He stares at me for a long moment then his smile widens as he snickers. He lashes out, expecting to catch me with a backhand. But I was ready for it and block the blow with ease. He stares a me for a beat then takes a couple of steps back. He lowers his weapon at me again, trying to affect an air of cool confidence but I see through it. The man is vicious, there’s no question about it. But he’s not nearly as tough as he seems to think he is. He enforces his will at the point of a gun and will usually only try to flex on those he perceives to be weaker than him. I know his type. I despise his type.
“That’s what I thought,” I say. “Without the weapon—”
“Who are you?” he cuts me off.
Neither Adam nor I speak. We both know that if we tell them we’re with the Pharaohs, Zavala will immediately unload on the club. And we can’t let Zavala catch the MC unprepared. We’ve got no choice but to keep quiet and take whatever it is they’re going to dish out. Even if it means our deaths. I’ll never betray my brothers, and I know Adam won’t either.
“You can either answer us, or we can take you down to Mr. Zavala’s house down there, and you can answer to him,” he snarls.
That would be even less of an ideal circumstances since Zavala will be able to ID me the second he lays eyes on me. That leaves only one option. I give Adam a wide-eyed inscrutable look, trying to convey my message to him. And that message is simple: Be ready. His eyes tighten, and he gives me a subtle nod. Message received.
