Page 72 of Cole

I lifted my head to watch, and my mouth went dry as I watched the semi pull into the lot. Just how many guns could they fit in there?

The back doors groaned as two of the men pulled them open, exposing the trailer filled with unmarked crates. Cole stood still, his expression unreadable in the dim light, but his posture seemed tense.

Rows and rows of crates.

I couldn’t breathe as I mentally tried to count how many. This was a huge operation. Massive.

Gage and Maddox pulled themselves into the back of the truck and removed a wooden crate toward the back of the semi’s trailer.

I watched as they pulled gun after gun out of the crate. Maddox passed a long black rifle to Cole, who twisted it in the SUV’s headlights, carefully inspecting it. Another of the Hounds hopped into the back of the truck and started counting the crates.

Cole started shaking his head as he spun the rifle in his hands. He racked the cocking handle back and checked the chamber. He let it snap forward with a metallic bite that made me jump. I watched closely as he ran his thumb along the magazine release and slid the magazine free. I could feel that something wasn’t right.

“Hey, boss, this isn’t adding up,” the Hound taking inventory said.

Cole nodded to Maddox, who jumped back into the truck with the other man and started opening crates.

Cole turned back to the seller. “Cheap,” he said flatly, tossing the rifle back into the crate with an unceremonious clatter.

The seller shrugged. “It's quality enough for what you need.”

“No,” Cole snapped, taking a threatening step toward the man. “We don’t take shit steel. That wasn’t the deal. We paid for the top shelf, and we always get what we pay for.”

Gage jumped down from the truck and stepped in closer to Cole, backing him up. “Are you shorting us and trying to saddle us with your knockoff crap? Do you think we’re fucking blind?”

“The guns will get the job done. They all fire. That’s all that matters to the likes of you anyway.”

“The likes of me?” Cole snapped, stepping closer to the man so they were only inches apart. Cole towered over him.

“What matters is that when one of my men pulls a trigger, the gun doesn’t jam. Doesn’t misfire. Doesn’t get someone killed. The likes of us don’t have a death wish. But it seems you might.”

The man took a step back, and even I knew that would be seen as a sign of weakness.

Maddox appeared from the depths of the truck. “It’s all short. I figure it’s about half of the actual order.”

The seller spread out his hands. “One of the trucks got rerouted, is all. You will get your full shipment. It’s just a little delayed. Half now and half is coming. That’s just how it goes sometimes.”

“Not with me,” Cole growled, so low I could barely make out his words.

The air had shifted, and tension radiated off the men below me in waves.

“I knew this was fucked,” Finn said, stepping forward toward Cole.

Cole’s head snapped toward him like a whip. “Shut your damn mouth, Finn. You’re not here to think. You are here to do what you are told.”

I watched as Finn’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze down to his boots. He took a few steps back from the group, clearly put in his place. That had to hurt Cole, considering how much he cared for the kid, but this wasn’t really the kind of situation where he could gently parent him.

Maddox’s hand rested on his hip, where I figured he had his gun concealed. Gage followed Maddox’s lead, his fingers twitching for his weapon. The sellers’ cronies parted their jackets just enough to flash black handguns waiting at each of their hips. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

“You boys need to relax,” the seller said. “You will get the rest, just as promised. For now, you have more than enough product to move. You can’t tell me you can really handle this much stock at one time.”

“You don’t know what we can handle,” Gage barked. “You’ve given us just enough product to piss us off, and you don’t want to find out what happens to people who cross the Hounds.”

“Careful now,” the seller said patronizingly. “That sounded dangerously close to a threat. You don’t want to threaten⁠—”

A single shot sounded, sudden and shocking. One of the ringleader’s men looked down so slowly it was almost comical, staring at his chest. Then he slumped to his knees. What the hell? Cole turned to look at his men, trying to see who had taken the shot. Not a single Hound had their gun out, and yet the shot had come from their side.

That was when all hell broke loose.