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“Sir, seriously? Position?”
“Oh yeah, sorry, I was busy.” I hear some shuffling over the coms.
“You should come down here. This place nearly rivals your torture chamber.”
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot?
“Pain cousin, where exactly are you?” I say in a sweet tone. Looking out from the vehicle, I let off a shot, and boo-ya bitches, right on target.
“Oh yeah. So, I grabbed two bad guys and took them to the club's basement. One of the club guys, the one they call Turbo, helped me out. Did you know that this place has an entrance right out front? And it blends right the fuck in. I’ve seen nothing like it. But did you know? Of course you did. You’re you and a little stalkery with this job.” I release an exasperated sigh at his rambling. “Anyway, I’m currently stringing them up. So you guys can kill the rest. These guys were giving the orders out there, so I figured you’d want to chat… P.S. They didn’t even come in with their guys. They just sat outside the gates, yelling at their crew. Such a disgrace. Who sends their people to do work they wouldn’t do themselves? Dead men, that’s who.” I hear shuffling and grunts. Yeah, the usually cool, calm, and collected Pain gets damn chatty when shit hits the fan. It's some funny shit.
“Okay then. Sin, numbers.”
The gunshot frequency is calming down, which means either most of them are dead or most of the clubs are. I need to know how many are left to eliminate.
“Six… Five… Wait… Two… Last one. Damn it, who in the fuck shot my last guy? Whoever did it, I’m fucking them up. That is all I can see. Some fuckers are playing cat and mouse and hiding in the shadows, so watch your back, sister.” Sin yells.
I hear chuckles over the coms; three, it wasn’tme coming through. We all know that unless Sin gets to zero, she is a pain in the ass and pouts for fucking days. Leave her to her weirdness.
She hid a few rifles when she broke into the place. She and Pain are lethal with those things. I’m no slouch, but even I can give props where props are due. Thank fuck. She was a sneaky kitty, as Pain likes to call her, and she put them on the roof.
I hear my name being bellowed out, and then reality hits me, and so does the pain in my leg. I raise my firearm at the shadowed figure standing twenty feet away from me and fire. The figure dodges, but I guarantee I clipped the fucker.
MotherfuckingCockSuckingSonOfARatFacedGoddamnBitchPigFucker.
Somebody is about to die. I-fucking-mmediately.
Twenty-Five
BELLAMY
?
My flesh wound is an annoyance that I don’t need. I got sneaky little bad guys to kill. I would like to know why it hurts more to be kind of shot than actually tobe shot. I’d take a full-fledged bullet over this. It’s like a damn paper cut on my leg. This shit is for the birds and not badass assassins. It’s embarrassing. My teeth grit, and I wince when my hand comes away from my bloody thigh. Shit. A body slams into the vehicle I’d been using for cover. I know before I look at who it is. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave him in the dust, but like I always say, a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do.
Anyway, I knew it was him, my would-be knight in shining leather. Looking down at my leg, I let out a sigh. Thank fuck, it’s only a graze. I stare briefly, contemplating what I’ll need, maybe stitches? Who fucking cares? Focus. Whoever shot at me is going to die, point blank, period. I sit up a little more and try to find the fucker or at least their general direction so I can send them a gift by way of a bullet to the dome.
“I’ve been hit, nine o’clock, twenty feet ahead. The pussy ducked northwest of my location. I no longer have visuals. I got a shot off and into the fucker. Sin, you’re welcome. Have fun and make that shit fucking hurt.”
Ignoring the man cussing me out as he calls out to someone to come and take care of me. I don’t acknowledge him. Duh, I’m working sexy time later, killing time now.
I had to wear fucking shorts tonight. Damn it, man. This shit burns like a motherfucker. I peek around the vehicle to see that the club is doing great. I see bodies dropping, and I smile, knowing that’s less shit than I have to contend with later. Thank fuck for small favors. I’m hungry. When was the last time I ate?
“Hey… Blaze, my most favorite brother in all the land.”
I see movement to my left, and before the fucker thinks he got the drop on me, I lift my arm and unceremoniously take the shot, and he goes down. I pat myself on the back.
“Whatever it is, Bell, I’m busy.”
My eyes narrow. First, no one is ever too busy for me. I mean, I am me. No matter. I pull out my phone. The Food ordering app is an excellent choice. Scrolling through it, I can’t decide what I want. Hmm? Yes, I can multitask because… Hello Food. Also, the club seems to have things handled, and I’m hungry.
It is going to be a long night.
If I don’t eat, I may unintentionally maim someone. And that would not be good. I’m sure my people will have this handled by the time they get here. And if not, I set the delivery for two hours. These apps are fantastic. I make my selection and pin where I want them to deliver. I don’t think the sperm donor would appreciate a random food delivery after this mess. So I pick a random house a mile away, duck when I feel the air move, and take another shot without looking up. I hear a grunt and a thump. Oops, that one was too close. I’m still ignoring Taz as he scolds me for my current situation and for having the audacity to order food. Looking down at my phone, I pull up my texts.
I can still hear shots in the distance, but they are getting less frequent. Grumpy Pants, realizing what he is saying to me, is going in one ear and out the other, so he is now shouting orders to his men, but my mind is on food.
“HEY, GRUMPYPANTS.”
