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Taking an opportunity, Harley stepped away from the SUV and aimed at the leader. “You want to deal? Let’s deal.” He kept his pistol pointed at McCoy. He sensed the devil’s breath at his nape, that light whisper that aggravated the hell out of him, the voice he often recognized as his other self—the one who had so much anger, too much hostility housed inside him now that he’d known what it was like to care for a woman, a woman he might never see again. A woman who probably had someone like Tony McCoy waiting in the shadows.
Men like Tony McCoy didn’t go away. When they branded a woman as theirs, they owned her. They didn’t care how they kept her. They didn’t care if they had other women waiting for them at the local motels.
If a man like Tony McCoy married a woman, she belonged to the organization and she belonged to the man. Like it or not, a woman was bound to the mob if the mob chose her for their way of life. She was theirs until the end of time.
The Dixie Mafia didn’t grant them freedom. They didn’t acknowledge divorce because then they were vulnerable. Exes knew their secrets, the kind of secrets that could destroy a man and bring down a corrupt organization.
“So here we are,” Tony said, creeping forward enough to jar Harley from his thoughts. “Me and you. Your men and mine. Now what?”
“Drop your weapon!” Mac yelled, stepping away from his limited coverage.
“Get back,” Harley snapped.
“Are you out of your mind?” Mac tried to push him aside but Harley stood firm.
“Ah so you must be the big brother.” Tony struck a strut, coming forward with a little extra spring in his gait.
“I am,” Mac said, stepping in front of Harley. “And you must be the son of a bitch who beat the hell out of his wife.”
“I taught her a lesson,” Tony admitted. “A lesson all women should learn.” He studied Mac with a more intense focus. “You look like a reasonable fella, someone who can appreciate a good lesson when it’s for the greater good.”
“What kind of greater good are we talking here?” Mac’s voice was pitched louder than usual.
“Ah you know, the kind that teaches women subservience. That’s what I’m talking about. Women who leave our nest are taught, born, and bred to serve and please.”
“You’re sick, man.”
Tony shrugged. “Way I see it, I groom women for men like you.”
Harley caught movement in his periphery, acknowledging Markie now standing next to Allister. Ryan slowly made his way to the front of the SUV. Everyone there found a new position so they could take a shot if the opportunity presented itself.
“Like I said…a reasonable man.” Tony turned to his men. “Why don’t we all put down our weapons and—”
As Harley had feared, the gunfire began again. Mac pivoted to his left and back to his right. Gripping his gun with both hands, Harley couldn’t tell if he’d been hit or not. “Mac!” He rushed forward and grabbed his big brother by the arm, dragging him away with every ounce of strength he possessed.
At the same time, McCoy’s boys screamed out in rage. Mac cursed under his breath and gripped his shoulder. “It’s a flesh wound, damn you! What do you mean, pulling me out of there?”
“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
Mac sneered. “And my blood would’ve been on your hands. What kind of idiot steps out in front of a firing squad?”
“That’s a good damn question,” Allister said, thrusting a shotgun in Markie’s hands.
“Oh goodies! Look who is in control now!” He skipped like a little girl and went straight to the front of the battle.
“Shit! Are you out of your mind?” Harley balked at the thought of Markie behind any loaded weapon.
As expected, Markie went madman crazy, pumping that shotgun like he was stroking his dick. With passion and fervor, he pumped and fired off one shot and then another.
“They got Tony!”
“Tony’s dead!”
“Fuck, man!”
“They killed him!”
“Let’s get out of here!”
