Snitches Get Stitches (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 8)

It was one of those gizmos that allowed you to see your dog and give him a treat while you were away at work—or wherever you happened to be.

I flipped open the app as I reached for my bedside table and the gun that I had tucked into it.

The moment that my hand closed around the butt of the gun, the app started running, and I froze.

That was because Theo was inside my house.

I frowned, my heart starting to beat an unsteady tattoo against my ribs, only to reprimand myself harshly. That wasn’t Theo. That was Tara.

With her hair tucked up into a black cap, and it pulled down low over her eyes, I could only see her face from the cheekbones down.

And at first, it’d fooled me.

But my rational brain and my irrational one were now on the same page, and I was not happy to see that woman in my house.

Though, I had expected it after she’d been watching the house next door where I supposed whatever they’d planted to track her in Linnie’s things was stashed.

Rethinking the gun because I knew that I could handle whatever Tara had to give, I replaced it into the drawer and shut it quietly. Then pulled up the call app on my phone and dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” came a calm, female voice.

I looked at my closed bedroom door, where Monster was tensing further and further, and knew that she was now making her way to the bedroom.

“Yeah, I have an intruder that just entered my home,” I said softly in order for Tara not to hear me. “You might want to send someone over. I think she has a gun.”

“She?” the operator said.

“Yeah, she.”

“Units are being dispatched. Can you stay on the line?”

Before I could answer her, Monster went crazy and the bedroom door creaked open.

I flicked the light beside me on, illuminating the room and momentarily distracting her enough that she flinched away.

Monster lunged, but before I could do anything, I called him off and told him to heel just as I wrapped my hand around the hand that was aiming the gun at my face.

Tara went…wild.

There was no other way to describe it.

She started kicking and screaming, throwing herself bodily against me and using every available weapon in her arsenal.

I went from being able to control her to protection mode so she didn’t kick me in the balls or scratch out my eyes while also trying to keep the gun aimed up and away.

Then there was Monster, who was super unhappy that I’d called him off.

I’d never in my life seen him act so defensive, and he’d been around a lot of unsavory people in his time with me.

Tara shifted, causing me to squeeze her hand with the gun in order to get her to stop digging her nails into the soft flesh underneath my arm.

“Where is she?!” Tara screeched.

“Where is who?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“My sister!” she screamed. “I want my sister!”

“Sorry, you crazy bitch,” I said to her. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It felt good to get on her nerves. It felt even better to have her hiss at me and narrow her eyes in affront.

She practically slammed herself into my body, hitting and kicking, and I wondered how long it would be before officers arrived and I could get her off of my hands.

I could easily subdue her, but it would look better for all involved if the cops walked in and saw her going absolutely ape shit, completely and utterly losing her shit.

I was sure that 911 was still on the line as well, recording the call for future evidence.

Hopefully this would put the crazy chick away for at least a couple of years. If I was lucky, longer.

Then the thought occurred to me, and I realized that this was the perfect opportunity to get rid of her for even longer than just a couple of years.

Allowing her hand to re-aim the gun—which was where she’d been struggling to get it but not accomplishing—I pushed it to the side and waited.

It didn’t take long.

The bullet tore through my bicep, making my stomach tighten and my head to swim.

I didn’t allow it to get the best of me, though.

Monster, my good ol’ dog, grabbed a hold of Tara and started to pull.

I heard her cry out in pain, and I used that to my advantage and rolled, pushing myself on top of her and hating every second.

Straddling her with my body, I moved until I had both of her hands in my good fist, then waited.

I’d called the police when I’d first heard the sounds in the kitchen.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before someone showed.

In the meantime, I could feel the blood running down my arm. Could also feel it dripping down and falling onto Tara.