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CHAPTER TWO
*Brodi “Bro” - Tail Gunner*
Shell-shocked, Vee and I stare down at our assignment. Vee has that far-off, lost look in his eyes — the same look he had when Kal, Zane, Coty, and I took over after Bay got wounded on the job. Vee 100 percent cannot be trusted right now. He is a fucking liability. But I am nowhere near high enough on the food chain to do a damn thing about it.
As our VP, Coty could set him straight, but right now he is about as useless as Vee — another ticking time bomb. His weaknesses where Lace is concerned are practically bleeding out of every pore.
Coty begins pacing the darkened room, furiously typing on his work phone. “Do something helpful! At least ensure he stays unconscious,” he roars, flashing a deadly glare in our direction.
I kick aside the discarded wooden beam Lace used to knock the man out, then scramble to the ground, plop onto my ass, and scoot toward the guy. Once settled with my legs spread behind him, I then lift his upper body, drag him against me, and wrap my arm around his neck, readying myself to put him in a sleeper hold at the first sign of returning consciousness.
Protocol dictates that one partner kills and one makes sure that any victims present have somewhere to go. The baby was my responsibility. Technically, it is an “in the event of” sort of deal, though. The victims are supposed to be elsewhere. She was not supposed to be here. Our employer usually takes care of that shit beforehand — gets them out and in some sort of protective custody so we can do our job.
Usually, the only time we see the victim is during the precursory assignment, the one where we are set up to witness the abuse firsthand. Doing that and not making the hit right then and there is always hard. But the rules are in place for a reason. Our jobs are clean. Easy. Aside from the fact that we act as judge, jury, and executioner.
Earlier today, Vee and I witnessed Mr. Kensington backhand his wife. Knock her out. Kick her while she was down. Now, here we are.
Lace’s fucking dad. Jesus. This entire night, beginning with the rally Kick-Start event, has been a disaster. Chaz and I should have never even gone through with entering Lace into the beauty pageant. Of course that had to go fucking sour too.
Coty brings the phone to his ear, shifting from foot to foot while he waits for whomever he called to pick up. As soon as the person does, his back straightens and jaw ticks. “Father. I have a new assignment for you.” He rolls his eyes to whatever the good ol’ chaplain whines about in response. “A different type of assignment. Some shit went down with Lace. I need you to go to Tit for Tat and keep an eye on her. If she tries to leave, follow her car. But try to do it all without her realizing; you act like a mouse but have the damn presence of an elephant sometimes.”
After a short pause, he wraps it up, a rare weariness present in his tone. “There’s an extra key to the saloon in my saddlebag. Check in every hour.” Before he hangs up, though, Zane clearly opens his mouth again because the weariness turns to impatience. “Don’t give me that concerned bullshit. Just stay close to her. No fucking questions. Since you still can’t follow instructions without blabbering like an idiot, make that check-in every thirty. With pictures. Oh, and if she is actually foolish enough to attempt leaving the county, call in backup. She has no choice but to stay now.”
Just as Coty flips the phone closed, Mr. Kensington twitches and so does Vee, aiming his gun at the target, his sightline a little too close to my own head for comfort.
With the center of his throat lined up in the crook of my arm, I squeeze and hold as his hands come up to grip my forearm and his feet scrabble against the carpet. In a matter of seconds, Mr. Kensington is completely lax again. The tension in my own body uncoils once I hear the reassuring click of Vee flicking his safety back on.
A brief flash of green lights up the dim room. Coty checks his phone and steps outside, the vertical plastic blinds rattling behind him. Vee flicks the safety off again and aims it toward the blinds. Being witness to him controlling the safety calms my nerves a bit but also proves that he has lost all trust in himself.
The blinds rattle again, and Vee curls his finger over the trigger. Both Coty and Kal step inside, and Vee concurrently turns on the safety and lowers the gun, his opposite hand lifting to rub down his face.
Coty lumbers off into a different part of the house, on a new mission. Kal takes out his own gun and silencer, twists the two together, and aims at the target and me.
Jerking the barrel, indicating for me to get out of the way, Kal orders in a monotone voice, “Regardless of who he is, we have an assignment to complete. Our hands are tied. He has to go. You two clock out early.”
Vee holsters his gun and storms out, and I haul ass away from there right behind him after separating myself from the target. Not even a count of five later, we hear the soft click and pop of the gun firing.
