Page 134 of House of Payne
“I told you not to be an idiot,” I add. “That was a warning shot.”
Michael’s head emerges from the circle. “Let him go, and let’s settle this like men.”
I laugh and shove Lance aside. “Let’s go, then. Give me your best shot.”
Lance falls to the ground, pressing his lips together to keep from crying out. A long, tense moment passes where nothing happens, and I begin to think Michael is full of shit. When I take a step toward Lance, the blood drains from his face, but he still tries to push himself to his feet. Two of his security men move in my direction, and I give them a cursory glance and point to my gun. I point it at Lance’s head and wait.
Slowly, I kneel in front of him and wait until he’s looking at me. “Guess you’re not the only one who’s been deemed dispensable.”
Lance’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you.”
“Unoriginal last words, but I’m not surprised.”
I hear Michael before I see him, and I’m on my feet in an instant. I spin to face him, the blood pounding in my ears. He charges, and the gun falls to the ground with a clatter. Laughing, I square my shoulders and charge at him, knocking him to the ground.
He doesn’t stay down for long, fury written on his face.
Michael swings and misses by an inch, and I kick out my leg. He gives his security detail a warning look when they move to help him. They stiffen but do nothing. Then, he wheels on me and throws another punch, this one close to my ear. I curl my hand into a fist and wait for him to throw a few more punches before I attack. Michael thrashes and growls, but his movements are slow and unfocused, and the wound in his leg is bleeding profusely.
The metallic smell of his blood only fuels me.
I’ve been waiting for an excuse to beat the shit out of him. Now that I have it, it’s all I can think about.
I see my father’s face when I punch him, and then I see my brother’s.
Michael lands a punch to my stomach, but it only enrages me more. Iget him in a chokehold as we spin. He squirms and pushes off with his legs, hoping to throw me off. I tighten my grip.
I can almost taste his blood on my lips.
I lose the upper hand when Lance rushes me from behind and knocks me down.
Stars dance in my vision.
I give them both a bloody smile. “You have some balls after all. Good.”
After spitting out a mouthful of blood, I charge them.
Suddenly, and without warning, bullets start flying in every direction.
Everything around me is a blur, and I can barely hear anything past the roar in my ears.
I’m still wrestling Michael when I spot a familiar head of hair. Carlisle and Katia fight their way to me, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. When they reach me, I’ve got my arms around Michael, and my knuckles are raw and bloody. Michael is panting and heaving, but he’s no closer to getting to me.
I kick him to the ground and press hard on his wound. He grunts and doubles over. I take out another gun and look around for Lance. I fire in his direction but miss. Then Lance appears in front of me and tries to wrestle the gun out of my hand.
Another bullet flies into the sky.
I let the gun fall from my hand and throw my weight into Lance. I smile when my fingers close around his broken wrist, and his face contorts in pain.
I’m still towering over Michael and Lance on the ground when I hear sirens in the distance.
My heart pounds when I realize that a bigger fight has broken out, unleashing hell on the docks. I blink, and my vision sharpens, revealing my men and theirs entangled in a blur of shapes and colors. With a frown, I give Michael and Lance another kick and leap backward.
Katia appears by my side and wordlessly carves a path back to the car.
I have no idea how or why the cops know what’s happening when they’re paid well to turn a blind eye, but I know I can’t get caught in the middle of it.
It’s one thing for someone lower in the food chain to get caught, and we have protocols in place, but if my name is anywhere near this, it’ll snowball into something bigger.
