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“What’s the matter? You need your pocket pussies here to help you fight?” I flick the cigarette filter to the ground and push myself off the wall.
The Jones brother’s lip curls. “Fuck you, motherfucker,” he spits.
I read his body language and do nothing to avoid his blow, letting the pissant strike first. He swings at me, his fist connecting with my jaw.
I smirk. “Is that all you got?”
The brother goes at me again, but I dodge the hit this time. My fist connects with his face, landing a solid blow to his mouth. His teeth crack against my knuckles. The big son of a bitch stumbles backward a few feet but regains his footing, then charges at me. He dips his head, releases a bear-like growl, and drives his broad shoulder into my gut, lifting my feet off the ground. My back slams against the side of the building, knocking the wind from my lungs.
The big man takes a step back. “I own you, motherfucker,” he spits in my face, then reaches into his back pocket and produces a knife.
At that moment, Baja and Juneau stroll out of the club’s front door, laughing. Baja’s head turns first, and he quickly catches what’s unfolding. He taps Juneau’s arm, then motions my way.
“Need a hand, brother?” Juneau asks, and the Jones brother’s buddies immediately spring into action, placing themselves between me and my brothers, squaring off with them.
“I’m good, brother,” I answer. “This is between me and pencil dick here.” My words further provoke the asshole, and he charges me with the knife, bringing his arm up and slashing it down.
I block his attempt to stab me with my forearm and simultaneously punch the bastard in the throat. Gripping his wrist, I shift my body weight to the side and wrench his arm behind his back. The knife falls from his hands with a clatter. One of his buddies moves to retrieve the blade.
“Take another step, motherfucker, and I’ll put a bullet in ya,” Baja warns.
The man freezes, then backs off.
“I’ll kill you.” Spittle flies from the brother’s mouth, and he squirms, attempting to escape my hold. “My brother told me why you came into his bar looking for trouble,” he heaves, out of breath. “Or should I say,whom you came in for.” He lets out a manic laugh and tosses his head back, trying to bust my face, but I dodge the attempt.
I shove him forward, slamming his face into the side of the building.
He growls and grinds his teeth. “Sukie Pierce and her mother are murderous whores. One day, just like you, they will get what’s coming.”
The words flying from his mouth enrage me more. I fist his hair and slam his face repeatedly into the concrete wall, then toss his exhausted body to the ground. His nose is crushed, and his face is covered in lacerations and blood. But I’m not satisfied. I spot his knife lying close by.
“Get the fuck up.” I seethe, red anger pulsating through my veins.
The brother looks at me through swelling eyes and gets to his feet. I point to his weapon.
“Pick it up,” I order, but he doesn’t comply. I take out my gun, aiming at his face. “Pick. It. Up.” I seethe.
The brother slowly reaches down and wraps his hand around the handle.
He straightens. “I’ll kill you if you don’t kill me first.” His busted lip curls.
Those nine words seal his fate. I pull the trigger. The Jones brother falls to the ground, blood seeping from his chest.
Juneau sighs. “Shit. Go tell Prez we have a situation.”
Baja jogs back into the club.
I pull my attention away from the dying man and glance around to see his so-called friends have disappeared.
“They hightailed it out of here,” Juneau says. He shakes his head. “You made this one hard to explain, brother. There’s no disposing of the body this time. Those two motherfuckers he was with don’t look like the type not to snitch.”
“Then they will suffer the same fate,” I declare.
A moment later, Salem marches outside. He looks at the dead man. “Who is he?”
“The other Jones brother.”
“That doesn’t explain shit.” Salem kneels, pressing his fingers to the asshole’s neck, looking for a pulse.
