Promises Part 2 (Bounty Hunters 2)

“That means Ford will respond, too,” Dana said solemnly.

Duke’s eyes widened as realization set in. “Shut up, Dana. Judge, step on it,” Duke whispered sternly.

Quick was silent, too quiet for even his own comfort. He didn’t know what he was going to see when they pulled up to Cayson’s house, but he hoped that if Ford had done something to his doctor, he’d forgive him in the afterlife. Because he was going to meet his soul in hell after he killed him.

Cayson

Cayson sat very still while he listened to what Joe had to say. He was upset that it’d been seven minutes and he didn’t even hear sirens yet, not to mention none of the guys with watches had shown up either. Why would they come? They hate me. Cayson wondered what was going to happen to him if he just sat there and waited. Waited for Joe to slap him. Waited for the cops to cuff him and take him away. Waited for Ford to eventually find him. Whatever the hell was coming, he’d welcome it. It’d be something he could focus on instead of his broken heart.

“Are you listening, Cayson?” Joe yelled.

“Vaguely,” Cayson said. He was so distraught; he just didn’t care anymore.

“Come on, we got to go. We’re going to the police station. I’m going to turn evidence on my nephew and tell them it was his plan to take it a step farther and hire more guys who had their own agendas. It’s not a crime to try to scare someone, right?”

“Then go,” Cayson replied, flipping his hand in a shooing motion.

“I need you as a character witness,” Joe said unbelievingly.

“Character!” Cayson was getting angry. Angrier by the minute. This guy had some nerve. Joe had cost him everything. While Cayson had been blaming himself, he realized that if Joe had just walked away in the first place, they wouldn’t have had to go through all of this. He shot up from the couch and walked right up into Joe’s face. “What character? You have none! You tried to buy me, asshole! Did you forget that? We never had a real relationship, and as soon as I get one, you fuck it up! For what? To save face. To prove you’re better than Roman. Well fine! The dick measuring is over! You won. Roman Webb is officially out of my life forever.”

Cayson could feel how hot his hand itched to strike another human being for the first time in his life, so that’s exactly what he did. Cayson jolted his right hand out, palm up and flat just like Vaughan had taught him and slapped Joe in the center of his forehead, hard enough to snap his head back. He hollered out in shock, holding his forehead and looking at Cayson like he was insane. Damn, that did feel awesome. He’d never hit anyone before.

The two men, who hadn’t moved a muscle the entire time they’d been there, had Cayson out of Joe’s face and pinned up against the wall with his hands pulled behind his back before Cayson could think of another strike move. He hoped he’d done it right. It didn’t look like it caused any real damage to Joe, but it did stun him. Good enough for Cayson. “Let me go. The police are on their—”

Cayson heard his front door burst open and the glass at the top shatter when it connected with the wall. He couldn’t see who it was, because he was still pinned by one of the guys. The other had moved to Joe’s side and was reaching into his waistband as he went into a defensive stance.

It wasn’t the police; they announced themselves when they entered a house. Who’d gotten there first? Cayson heard slow deliberate footsteps on the hardwood floor in his foyer. If this had been Friday the 13th, this would be the exact moment Jason turned the corner and hacked them up.

“Dr. Joseph Wellington, I presume.”

Cayson began to shake under the bodyguard’s hand at the sound of Ford’s voice. He knew it was him, even though he wasn’t yelling like he’d been at the hospital. Cayson still recognized the rage in his tone. He was going to kill all of them. None of the other team was coming. Ford was going to take them all out and ghost before the cops got there.

“Joe, run! He’s going to kill you!” Cayson hollered, fear griping him like a vise. He was livid at Joe, but he didn’t want anyone brutally murdered in front of him.

“Look. I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure we haven’t met.” Joe tried to reason with Ford, standing behind his bodyguard.

“This is for my brother.” Ford’s strike was swift and fast to the bodyguard’s throat. If he’d wanted to reach for his weapon, he couldn’t. The big man dropped to his knees, clutching his throat, his eyes bulging as he tried to take in a breath. Ford didn’t give Joe a chance to run or react. He grabbed a handful of Joe’s wayward hair at the back of his head and slammed his fist into his nose, not once but twice, in rapid succession. “My brother sends his regards,” Ford snarled in Joe’s bloody face.