“Ah, fuck.”
“Tell me what I want to know and you might die quick and painless.”
He let out a grunt-laugh. “Right.”
“I already know you’re planning to bomb some shit. Your young bucks really need to learn to keep their mouths shut.”
I flash a smug smile at the look of surprise on his face.
“Know about that?”
I nod.
“It’s gonna be magnificent, all of your shit going up in a cloud of smoke.” He let out a laugh full of anguish, panting harshly to stop the pain. “I can’t wait.”
“You seriously don’t think we’re gonna let that happen, do you?”
“Insurance, dumbass.”
He laughs again and shakes his head, pissing me off. I shoot again right through the same spot, and he cries out in pain. “Goddammit!”
“I can do this all night. In fact, I would love nothing more than to torture you for the next day and a half, filling your body with holes until you close your eyes and pray for death. But if you tell me what you want, I’ll put one right in your head.”
“Bullshit. Like I’d ever trust one of you fuckin’ Souls.”
“Trust me or not, I will get the information from you. The easy way or the hard way.” For good measure, I press the barrel against the heavily bleeding hole in his arm. “Nothing to say?”
He shakes his head, stubborn and defiant, and proud of it.
“Have it your way.” I remove the barrel from his arm, and as soon as I hear that sigh of relief that maybe, just maybe, this is all going to be over soon, I press it against his thigh and squeeze the trigger.
“Goddamn son of a bitch!” His jaw clenches as he sucks in air through his teeth, the pain overwhelming his senses.
“What kind of insurance?”
His resolve is fading. I know the look well, but this old man is determined to prove his loyalty. I might admire that trait in another man at another time. It’s part of how we survive the MC game, having each other’s back, willing to die to protect the club. “I ain’t got shit to say to you.”
“Okay.” I hold the gun right beside his ear and pull the trigger, knowing the searing pain it causes. Ringing, sometimes bloody ears. Hearing damage. Migraines, if he lives long enough for that.
His roar of pain is muffled by the fighting, the gunshots. The crackling sound of the fire just a few feet away covers everything. Everything but the sirens in the distance. “You ain’t got much time.”
“Neither do you. I got the rest of this clip and two more, and I’m a fast shot. Insurance?”
“Fuck you, Coop.”
I smile. “Aw, you know my name.” I squeeze another bullet into this other thigh. “Can’t say the same, old man. But if you tell me what I want to know, I promise to make a special trip to learn your name when I piss on your grave.”
There it is, the look of resignation. The pain is too much, and he’s ready for it to be over with.
“Tom Delaney,” he sighs. “He can pull your Port certificates if you’re a danger to the flow of business. The city. The Port employees.”
Shit. That’s the same name Kelsey mentioned. The Port Director. “You’re leaning on him?”
“In a way. After the explosion, his family will mysteriously disappear. If he does what our Prez wants, they might reappear. Otherwise, who knows? The wife is real pretty, I hear. Bet her cunt is nice and tight. Will go for a nice fee. Over and over and over again.” He laughs, and a second later, winces in pain.
“Too bad you’ll never know.” I press the gun under his chin and stare into his eyes for a long moment before I pull the trigger and watch as the back of his head splatters across the asphalt.
The sirens draw closer, and I need to get the fuck out of here. A horn sounds, and I look up to find Shades on the dark street, his bike idling as he waves me forward. I get up, slam on the all-black helmet to hide my face, and then jump on the back as Shades guns it out of the quiet neighborhood. We pass blue and red lights on our way out of the area, and the tension in my shoulders relaxes just a fraction.
This is just the beginning of what’s to come. The Iron Kings, those still standing, will either be caught with illegal goods and arrested or heading to the morgue. I’m fine with either option.
But this isn’t over, not yet. Warm blood and maybe some brains still cover my face, and I can’t even get a hot shower yet, not until I tell Ace what I learned from the old man.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kelsey
It’s been three days, and I haven’t heard from Coop, which means I probably won’t hear from him. Ever again. He hasn’t texted me back or returned any of my calls. I bet I lost him for good by losing my cool. He totally deserves every word I said, but in hindsight, I can see that he was preoccupied with other things.