Ambrose (The Theriot Family 5)

We heard something just as we reached the area where Ambrose had called Gerard to him before.

“Get behind me,” Ambrose ordered.

I pulled out my gun and did as he said. If we needed to make our way through the bayou quickly, Ambrose should be in the lead.

A moment later, Carlotti stumbled out of the woods. His suit was torn and dirty. One of the sleeves had ripped away from the shoulder seam, and his face and hands were scratched to hell. He looked as wild and crazy as he had to be to pursue us through the swamp.

“Why the hell do you live in this godforsaken place?” he asked.

Neither of us answered. It was probably a rhetorical question.

“I wish I could kill you twice for making me walk all this way. I’ve ruined this suit. It was my favorite.”

It seemed like the fact that he’d killed most of his supporters was more significant, but I chose not to mention that.

“You’ve lost, Carlotti,” Ambrose said. “It’s over. Accept that and put the gun down.”

“You’ll kill me.”

“If you shoot one or both of us, your death is going to be long, drawn out, and extremely painful. You’ll be begging for it to end, but it won’t, not for a long time. Set that gun down and you won’t feel a thing.”

“No. I’m going to rebuild everything. Once I’ve taken care of you and the scum you call family, I’ll find people who understand loyalty.”

Ambrose took a few steps to the side, and I moved with him.

I knew he wouldn’t make a move without purpose, but I wasn’t sure what his objective was. Then I saw it, something that looked like a bumpy log in the water moving closer to the shore. It was Gerard. He must have heard our voices and thought we’d come to feed him.

I knew what Ambrose was doing. He was putting Carlotti between the water and us. He was hoping we were going to feed the alligator an evil criminal. Would the creature know we were offering him Carlotti?

“Put the gun down,” Ambrose said again. Carlotti’s hands shook. He was barely holding onto the weapon.

“Which one of you will mourn the other more?” Carlotti asked, looking back and forth between us. His eyes grew even wilder. Ambrose had said Carlotti was insane, but he seemed to be getting worse. I wasn’t even sure he knew what he was doing anymore, and that meant he was more dangerous than before.

We needed to get the gun away from him because, even if Gerard came for him, he could still shoot while being dragged to the water.

“That’s an interesting question,” I said.

Ambrose glanced at me and shook his head. I ignored him and kept pressing. Ambrose had a pet alligator, and I had a plan.

“Here’s another interesting thought. What if we all put our guns down and fight this out hand to hand? Do you think you could take us? Do you think you could kill me with your bare hands and make Ambrose watch?”

Carlotti began to laugh. He sounded like the maniac he clearly was. “You really think I’m going to fall for that?”

“You really think you aren’t man enough to take one of us? I’ve got cuffs on me. We could put them on Ambrose, and you could fight me, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

Carlotti glanced between the two of us. “No way. It’s a fucking trap.”

Gerard had started to rise out of the water. We only had a few seconds to get the gun away from Carlotti, assuming the alligator didn’t decide to eat me instead.

“If you don’t like getting your hands dirty, we could do knives instead. At least that takes a bit more skill. You could really prove yourself then.”

Carlotti growled. “Fine. I’d be happy to stab you through the heart.”

I glanced at Ambrose. The last thing he needed was to be lost to the memories of the horrible day that had ruined his military career.

Carlotti pulled a wicked knife from an ankle sheath and stuck his gun in his pocket. As soon as the gun was out of his hand, Ambrose whistled using the same sound he’d used to call Gerard before.

The beast charged. When his jaws clamped around Carlotti’s legs, the man screamed, and I knew I would never forget the sound. It was horrible. The gator dragged him toward the water, and he begged us to help him. We stood still and watched until he disappeared under the surface.

I glanced at Ambrose and reached for his hand. “Are you okay?”

“I… Yeah.”

Shit. I heard someone else coming toward us through the trees. We drew our guns, shifting position to use the trees for cover.

A familiar voice yelled, “Ambrose? Is that you? Are you all right?”

It was Dax. He and Lance appeared, weapons in hand.