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The driver kept the vehicle idling as he studied me. Then he slammed his foot down on the accelerator.
I remained where I was, refusing to back down.
“Jesus. We’re not playing chicken!” Grayson barked from beside me.
“Like hell we aren’t, my friend. You know how I adore my games. Especially when they’re life and death.”
What Grayson knew better than most was that I was a crack shot, one of the many skills I’d been required to learn.
I also had patience, something instilled into me since I was a child.
At least regarding the use of weapons.
Threats made against my family were something else entirely. I wouldn’t be satisfied until the head of the fucker responsible was on a silver platter at the end of my dinner table.
“Get the fuck out of the way,” Grayson hissed.
“Hold on. Just watch and learn.” I didn’t flinch, holding my breath as the asshole careened in my direction. When the driver was in the exact position I wanted, I fired off three bullets. Only then did I move to the left, yanking my soldier with me seconds before the man behind the wheel lost control of his vehicle.
I took a deep breath as the man overcorrected, given one of the three bullets had sliced through the front tire exactly as I’d wanted. I watched in satisfaction as the car went airborne, flying a solid thirty yards before dropping back to the earth, the tires skidding then the driver’s door slamming into a tree.
“Bingo,” I said and nodded several times, immediately easing the weapon into my jacket.
“What the fuck was that?”
“That, my friend, was how you capture a rat.” The only way that anyone could have been allowed to get close to any member of my family at the funeral was if he worked for my father. There was nothing worse I hated than idiots who betrayed their own.
They deserved exactly what fate doled out.
The creaking and hissing sounds were to be expected. I raked my fingers through my hair, allowing the image of my mother’s tearstained face to form a permanent place in the front of my mind.
“See if you know him,” I ordered.
“You shot him. I’m sure he’s dead. What the fuck does it matter?”
I slowly turned my head and he grumbled under his breath. Then he headed toward the wrecked vehicle, shielding his face and using the butt of his weapon to pound out the cracked glass on the passenger side.
“I assume he’s very much alive.”
Grayson snorted as if impressed. “You’re a wacked out son of a bitch.”
“It’s all in the art of knowing the right pressure points, my friend. He’s in significant pain but the gunshot wounds won’t kill him.” Something else would.
“Gunner. I should have known,” Grayson hissed. Then he headed in my direction, choosing to keep his voice low. “He was considered one of your father’s most trusted men. He’d worked with him for years. A little surprising.”
“Nothing should surprise you any longer, my friend.” The two of us were as close to being friends as I’d had in my life, although we wouldn’t be sharing family events together in the upcoming years.
“Gasoline is already leaking. There’s a good chance the engine will spark.”
Laughing softly, I clapped him on the shoulder. “I assure you that it will. I’m never wrong in my calculations. I suggest you back away.”
“You are one dangerous motherfucker.”
“Evidently, you’ve forgotten what I’m capable of.”
Grayson grinned. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
I was positive he wouldn’t.
