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He went quiet.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
I kept going until the floor was a pile of bones, brains, and blood. Where a head used to be was just a scene from a nightmare. Didn’t faze me at all. “Alright. Who wants to go next?”
* * *
We pulled up to the bar.
There were only a couple guys inside, drinking at four in the morning because their boss owned the place. I could see them through the dark window, sitting right at the bar with their tall glasses full of whatever piss they were drinking.
“You sure about this?” Bleu was in the back seat with me.
“Yep.”
“They’ll all be armed.”
“And so am I.”
“It’s three on one—”
“I got this.” I stepped out of the car and went up to the door. Of course, it was locked, but it only took a couple shoulder jabs to get the door to fly open.
The three of them were still, looking at me like I was some drunk idiot who’d wandered into the wrong bar. I straightened my jacket then approached them, and once they got a better look at me, they realized I was the real deal.
“Lucas?” I stopped in front of my opponent, the one so arrogant that he sized me up without getting off his stool.
“Who’s asking?” His hand remained on his glass.
“Laura’sboyfriend.”
His eyes gave a flash.
“Looks like you’ve heard of me.”
His hand dove inside his jacket for his gun.
I grabbed him off the chair and stabbed my knife right into his side.
He gasped as he stilled, like he could feel exactly where the blade was.
The other two men had their guns drawn, but with their comrade right in front of me, they were powerless to do anything.
I looked at both of them, knowing one of them had been married to Laura. It must be the one on the right, because he was built and good-looking—but still undeserving of her. But whether that assumption was right or not, it didn’t matter right now. “All I have to do is twist this knife slightly to the left and I’ll puncture your right lung. You might make it to the hospital, might not. Depends on how fast you can haul ass.”
Lucas barely breathed, like he was afraid too big a breath would push up against the blade.
“You tried to hit my girl?”
Lucas was paralyzed, blood dripping down his side and soaking into his jacket and shirt.
I pushed my knife a little deeper. “You didn’t think that question was rhetorical, did you?”
He ground his teeth as he groaned. “She fucked with me first—”
I pushed the knife deeper.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, alright? What do you want from me?”
