Page 47 of Doc (Burnout 5)


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There he saw Izzy pressed against the side of her Charger, Prior’s hands slipping over her hips and his mouth just inches from hers.

“I know you,” Prior declared.

Izzy shook her head and maneuvered his hands off her. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” he insisted, though he seemed unsure. He pulled back from her and studied her face. Then the light bulb went on. “You were in my bed.”

“True,” Izzy replied. “I was in your bed. But you don’t know me.”

“What the fuck?” Caleb spat as he came up behind Prior.

Prior turned and glared at him. He assessed first Caleb, then Easy, and then looked beyond them, no doubt to ascertain whether or not Shooter, Tex, and Hawk were close behind. Not finding them, he turned his gaze back to Caleb. “Fuck off,” he growled.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Caleb ordered, still closing in. He wasn’t quite within striking distance, but he was gaining ground. He’d rip Prior’s hands off her and beat the man senseless. Fuck asking him to cooperate, Caleb would just kick the shit out of him until the man was begging to help.

Izzy was a bit more clear-headed, it seemed. “I need something from you, Prior,” she told him.

Prior smiled but his gaze didn’t leave Caleb. “After I grease Barney Fife and the Gimp, I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give it to you all night and all day tomorrow. If you’re a good girl.”

Izzy sighed. “I doubt that, Prior. You’ll probably be dead by then.”

Prior turned back to look at her. He must have guessed that Izzy and Caleb were together, because when he realized he was blocked in by the two ex-Army Rangers, he grabbed Izzy with one hand, pulled a switchblade with the other. He set her between them, with the blade glinting at her throat.

Without thinking, Caleb pulled his .45 out of the waistband of his jeans and trained it on Prior’s head.

“Holy Fuck,” Easy muttered darkly. “Fucking fight and I don’t have a gun or a knife. Thanks for the heads up, Doc.”

“Let her go, Prior,” Caleb said quietly.

“What the fuck?” Prior growled. “Someone start talking, or she starts bleeding.”

Blood roared in Caleb’s ears, his finger flexed on the trigger. It wasn’t a difficult shot. He could put it right between Prior’s eyes if he cared to, though it didn’t seem like enough of a punishment for the asshole.

“Fair enough,” Izzy said, deadly calm. There was a sharp click, though not of a hammer. Prior tensed at the unfamiliar sound, but even he knew it wasn’t a gun she had in her hand.

Under the piss-yellow glow of the overhead street lamp, Izzy held up a small digital recorder. A voice Caleb didn’t recognize filled the tense silence.

“Look, enough’s enough,” someone said. “All these fucking plans and we’re still standing around with our dicks in our hands. We ain’t seen a payday like he’s been promising.”

“Soap,” said another voice. “Killing a brother ain’t no walk in the park.”

“Jesus, man” said a third voice. “Killing a brother? Nah, man, killing the prez. Let’s call it like it is. He deserves that much, anyway.”

“True. And not just him. Tiny, Switch, and Dink? They’ll never stand with us. We take out Prior, they’ll be out for blood.”

“We take them out first,” someone argued. “And he’ll know we’re coming for him.”

Someone sighed. “So, we do ‘em all at once. It’s the only way.”

“Heads are gonna roll if we fuck this up.”

“Heads are gonna roll,” someone agreed. “But they won’t be ours.”

Izzy switched off the recorder. Prior remained frozen, still waiting for his brain to catch up.

“Prior,” Caleb said, warning him.

Slowly, Prior pulled the knife from Izzy’s throat. Caleb still didn’t lower his gun.

“How the fuck did you get this?” Prior demanded.

Izzy looked him straight in the eye, all business. “I bugged your clubhouse. That’s how you found me in your bed. I was setting up surveillance.”

Prior’s face contorted with rage and he moved toward her. Caleb stepped forward, keeping the gun at eye level.

“I got no problem putting you down, Jack,” Caleb hissed. “You touch her again and I’ll ghost you before your crew has a chance to do it.”

Prior seemed to regain his perspective and stepped back. “So, what? You’re just doing your civic duty? Protecting and serving? Oh, that’s right, word is you’re not a cop anymore.” He snorted. “Not that you ever were. I’ve always said that. Animals smell their own.”

“That’s right. So you know I’m not just blowing smoke.”

Prior grimaced. “Why tell me?”

“Like I said,” Izzy replied. “I want something.”

Prior snorted again. “Why do I feel like I’m not going to enjoy it as much as riding your sweet ass?”

Izzy ignored the comment. “Jace Paul.”

It wasn’t often that the president of Rapid City’s only one-percenter gang was caught off guard, but that seemed to throw him for an even bigger loop than hearing his fellow compatriots were plotting to murder him

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