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“I’ll be keeping this,” I say, pocketing his phone.
“Take it, man,” he insists.
“Now it’s just the matter of you two deciding which one of you gets to see the light of another day,” I remind him.
“What the fuck, man? We gave you what you wanted,” Aaron wails.
“Yeah, but you also nearly killed my father, and you caused me and my family a whole lot of pain and trouble. And I am not the kind of man who takes these things lightly.”
Dog and Aaron frown at each other.
“You beat the shit out of each other until one of you is left standing, or me and him beat the living fuck out of both you.” Alejandro snarls, cracking his knuckles for effect and I suppress a smile.
“And believe me, neither of you will be breathing by the time we’re done. We’ll make it hurt too.”
“A lot, because I am fucking itching to some break some bones,” Alejandro adds. Damn, I love this guy.
Aaron and Dog give each other the side eye, assessing each other and deciding whether the other is capable of making the first move, but they both know the answer and so do we. They just beat their other buddy to death.
Dog moves first, dropping and kicking Aaron in the knee, causing him to drop to the floor. Then the two of them go at it in a literal fight to the death. There’s something raw and primal about watching two men fight for survival. Each of them thinking they’ve topped the other, only for their opponent to get a surge of adrenaline and come back even stronger.
As Aaron overpowers Dog for the third time, he scrabbles around in the dirt for some kind of weapon. His fingers curl around a small rock, about the size of a tennis ball. He raises his fist and brings it crashing down on Dog’s temple. Over and over again until he bashes straight through his skull and the soft brain tissue is peeking out.
“Fuck!” Alejandro murmurs as he leans back against the porch and watches the action. I swear the only thing missing for him is a bucket of popcorn.
When Aaron is satisfied that Dog is dead and he’s not getting up for a third time, he pushes himself up onto shaky legs. He’s covered in blood, both his own and Dog’s. He hobbles toward us, a bone protruding from his shin and his jaw hanging slack as though it’s broken. Do I think he’s been through enough hell yet?
Maybe.
“To the victor go the spoils,” Alejandro says with a smirk as Aaron reaches us.
“It’s over?” he mumbles, spit dribbling down his chin as he struggles to talk.
“Yup,” I press my gun to his forehead and he frowns at me in confusion. “All over.”
I pull the trigger before he can blink and he drops to the ground at our feet. Alejandro pulls on some rubber gloves he has in his pocket, taking the gun from my hand and wiping it clean of our prints. Then he walks over to Dog, places the pistol in his hand and squeezes off a round into the dirt so that the powder residue will be on his fingers.
He tosses the rubber gloves into the burning bonfire, where tobacco guy is still roasting like a hog, and then walks back to me. We survey the scene before us, pleased with our day’s work. I take the cell from my pocket.
“You going to text this mystery man then?” Alejandro asks.
“No time like the present,” I say, tapping out a text message. I copy the speech patterns and terrible spelling from the texts that Dog has previously sent him, and tell him that I have something urgent to discuss that he’s going to want to know about.
Now all we can do is wait.
LUCIA
I keep glancing at the door, anxious to see Jax and my father walking through it. I know that they are more than capable of handling a few thugs on their own, but what if this is a trap? Someone went to a whole heap of trouble to set Jax up. Who the hell is behind it? Because while I have an uneasy feeling about Ed and Shannon, it feels bigger than them.
“Would you like another tea, sweetheart?” my mom asks, snapping me from my thoughts.
I know that she’s worried about them too, but she hides it much better than I do. I suppose she’d had a lot more practice. She’s only eight years older than me, and most of the time she feels like my best friend. But it’s times like now, when I’m worried and anxious and it feels like the world is against me, that she is every bit my mom.
“Yes please. How are you doing looking into Ed?” I ask.
She walks to the counter and fills the old fashioned copper kettle before placing it on the stove. “Okay, I guess, but he’s not the easiest guy to track down. I think he may have used a different name at one time. I’m sure Jax would have more success,” she says with a soft sigh.
“Hmm,” I say, chewing on my thumbnail.
