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At the bottom of the mountain, the black pickup rammed into us from the back, jolting us forward. Thomas eased off the gas, and the truck took advantage of the move, driving around to the driver’s side, guns trained on us, unaware we were ready for them.
The passenger window slid down slowly, and I sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly as Thomas and I both emptied our clips into the vehicle. It rolled forward slowly, stopping twenty feet away thanks to a thick stump that used to be a tree.
“All right.” With a tired sigh, Thomas stepped on the gas, and we drove slowly through the mountain town as we made our way toward Route 95.
“Shit,” he growled again. “Another car, no two cars, behind us.”
Jasper would be here soon enough with reinforcements.
I hoped.
In the distance, I heard the thunder of dozens of motorcycles, and I smiled.
“Backup is here.”
“Thank fuck.” Thomas sped up and pulled over to the side of the road. One of the trucks stopped behind us, the other right in front of us. He looked at me and grinned.
I grinned back. “Let’s fuck some shit up?”
He nodded and reached for two handguns. “Front or back?”
“Back,” I grinned. We quietly opened our doors, slipped out of the Hummer, and positioned ourselves out of sight.
I preferred for my prey not to see me coming, and I waited until all three men stepped from the truck before I started shooting. Their goggles were gone, showing just how young these motherfuckers were, but I didn’t let that sway me. They were out to kill me, which made them as grown as the next asshole. I hit the driver first, one shot to the thigh that took him to the ground.
The passenger ran forward, and one lone bullet center mass stopped his momentum.
The third man who was in the back froze, probably debating whether to stay and fight or run to live and fight another day.
I took the choice out of his hands, shooting him in the stomach as I advanced. Then, the chest. Finally, when I was close enough to see the Black Jack tattoo on his neck, I put a bullet in his head. None of them were familiar, dammit, which meant more enemies to watch out for.
“Sadie, come on!”
I looked up at Thomas’ shout and groaned before I turned and ran back to the Hummer.
“Guess we weren’t the only ones who called for backup.”
Three more trucks arrived as the roar of American steel drew closer. Eight bikes followed by what looked like a fucking fleet of SUVs ate up the pavement until they were close enough for me to see the patches of the Reckless Bastards. Charlie had roared up with his crew, armed and ready to kick some ass.
One of the black SUVs pulled up, and the window rolled down. Jasper sat in the passenger seat with a gun in his hand, Terry smiling beside him, a semi-automatic in his free hand.
“You always did throw the best parties, Sadie.” Terry winked and drove forward toward one of the fleeing trucks.
The bikers had cornered one of the trucks, and as Thomas slipped away down a side street, away from the caravan of SUVs, another hail of gunfire sounded. I knew that was the end of those particular enemies.
But more were out there. They always fucking were.
The drive back to Glitz was quiet, but with Thomas, it was a comfortable silence, not one that needed to be filled with mindless chatter or reliving the excitement of the past hour.
I was glad that I could take care of myself. Even more glad that Thomas was at my side.
Our speed slowed considerably as we entered the Green Zone. I opened my eyes, really opened them, and looked around at what I saw.
“Thomas, this place is a shithole. What happened?”
“Cops won’t come out here,” he said and pointed to a group of teenagers selling dime bags. “Those kids over there are just trying to eat. Pay their bills. Sad.”
I let out a pained groan as I took in the teenagers selling dime bags even though they knew they weren’t supposed to. There were whores on the street selling their wares instead of inside the brothels set up for this work. All around were signs that the Green Zone was my biggest failure.
My biggest disappointment.
“Do you think we can clean it up?”
“Sadie, I think you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Back in the day, I had big dreams for the Green Zone to be the literal fucking Switzerland between Glitz, Vegas, and Mayhem.
Neutral.
A place where anyone could come to satisfy their cravings, their vices, without worrying about fighting. In this zone, bikers and gangsters could gamble side by side. They could talk shit over drinks, watching professional dancers and hookers shake their asses without worrying about retaliation.
