AllFreeNovel
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I’m surrounded by buildings that look like they were built decades ago—some homes, some stores. A restaurant is nearby, black umbrellas pitched above the outdoor tables. People walk by themselves or with horses along the street. What time period is this? They have no cellphones but do have these fancy cars and guns. None of it makes any sense. I’d think I time traveled, but it’s like I jumped forward and backward and ended up here, somewhere in the middle.
Someone around here must have something I can call home with. If I can get in touch with Faye, or even Lou Ann, I can getout of here. I can’t be too far away from home. For all I know, I blacked out or sleep-walked to this place—this foreign place where the air is thicker, the atmosphere darker, and I can taste salt in the air.
I spot a woman walking in a dress. Her hair is pulled into a fishtail braid and she has a child with her. A mother will help. I start to make my way toward her, but a loudbangcauses me to gasp, and I stop dead in my tracks.
I spin toward the tavern and the doors burst open as a large dark-skinned man comes barreling out, gripping the collar of a white man’s shirt. The dark-skinned man shoves the other one onto the ground, mounts him, jerks an elbow back, and slams a large fist into his face.
“Oh, shit!” I back away as he continues punching the man over and over again.
A crowd files out of the tavern to watch the fight, throwing their hands in the air, hollering and cheering for this man, and drowning out my screams. Even as the big Black guy conjures blood from the one on the ground, they cheer. He punches the man until his face is bloody and raw, then he hops to a stand with his crimson fists in the air and roars, “Who’s next?”
“Enough, Killian.” Caz makes his way through the crowd, unbothered, like this is the norm—as if he’s constantly watching bloody fights between men around here. Meanwhile, I’m still cupping my mouth, stunned by what just happened and too afraid to move. “Bring them here,” Caz demands.
Two men stumble through the crowd, and Rowan is right behind them, his big gun pointed at their backs. “You try anything, and I’ll blow your fucking heads off,” Rowan says with a sneer. “I wouldn’t test me either. This here’s a new gun and my finger’s been itching to pull the fucking trigger.”
“I’m going to ask you this one last time,” Caz says, standing in front of the men. “Who sent you?”
The men stare at Caz. One of them, a skinny man with a bald head, quivers, while the other, plump and hairy, wears a tight grimace on his face, chin tipped defiantly.
“Fuck you, Caz!” the defiant one spits. “You’ll be fucking dead soon!”
Caz doesn’t react. He only stares at the man. Then he says, “On your knees.”
The man grimaces harder but doesn’t move. Caz gives a simple nod of the head, and the Killian man charges forward with his bloody hands and grips one of the defiant man’s shoulders, forcing him to his knees, and then gripping the back of his neck. The man winces but remains insolent.
“Who’s telling you I’ll be dead soon?” Caz asks. “Go on. Say his name.”
“I’m not telling you shit,” the man hisses.
“You came tomytavern, knowing damn well you were inmyterritory, and you gleefully stirred shit up. You caused a scene like this to drag me here. So tell me, who wishes me dead?”
The man raises his chin, nostrils flared, and Caz sighs before taking a step back, opening his coat, and drawing out his gun. Killian moves away as Caz points the gun at the center of the man’s forehead.
“Very well.”
Those are the last words Caz says before pulling the trigger and sending a bullet flying through the man’s skull.
My heart drops and I back away again, but I can’t bring myself to make a single noise, afraid he’ll use it on me next. He just…killed that guy—murdered him in cold blood, and everyone is still standing around, watching this man bleed out like he was slapped or something. Oh, God. Am I in hell?
Caz swings the smoking barrel of the gun toward the quivering man, who immediately throws his hands in the air.
“It—it was Rami! Rami sent us!”
“Why?” Caz barks.
“I—I don’t know, I swear, I don’t! T-they paid me! I just took the rubies and did what they said!”
“Yousef, you dumb fuck,” Rowan grumbles.
Caz keeps his gun pointed at Yousef, then he takes a step closer, pressing the hot barrel to his forehead. It sizzles on his skin, and Yousef whimpers. “Anything for rubies, eh, Yousef?”
The man squeezes his eyes shut, his hands in the air, silently pleading.
“Do me a favor. Run to Ripple Hills—and when I sayrun, I do meanrun. Run the whole fucking way and don’t stop until you’re at Rami’s door. And when he opens that door, you tell that filthy fucker that he’ll be dead before he gets the chance to say my name again.”
“Y-yes. Yes. I will. I—I promise. I’ll tell him,” Yousef pleads.
Caz stares at him a moment longer, then lowers the gun and steps away. “Okay then.” He tucks the gun into the holster inside his coat. “Run.Now.”
