As we walk slowly to the office, the door is open. I seriously expected to see Craven, but it’s not. Sledge’s old lady, Gina, is there and she’s holding a gun on Ford.
“This won’t work. You’re stupid if you truly think it will,” Ford growls.
“It’s already working. You’re just too blind to see it,” Gina says carelessly.
She’s starts to pull the trigger. We can’t wait any longer.
“Sit tight, Ford. We have her. Seems you’re outnumbered, Gina,” King growls as we both take aim at the bitch.
“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that, King.”
My blood runs cold. There that motherfucker is. Craven moves to the side of us, a gun aimed directly at me while Gina’s is still on Ford. He uses his hand to take my gun and I let him, needing time to plan and hoping King comes up with something.
“You can’t get both of us,” I tell him and it shouldn’t matter, but I’m glad I didn’t stutter. Now is not the time to let anyone see me as incapable and too many assholes do when my stutter is bad.
“Maybe not, but I can get one of you and Gina will get Ford easy. I’m not sure King wants that kind of blood on his hands.”
“If I don’t do something, you’ll try and kill us all anyway,” King says.
“Nah, I’m not going to try. I’m going to do it. You three and your buddy Grunt are standing in my way. You have to be dealt with. Now, drop the gun. If you don’t, I’ll have Gina here go show the girls a real good time.” King’s face looks impassable, but he drops his gun. “Kick it down the hall away from us,” Craven instructs and King does it, his anger like a living, breathing entity around us. “Good dog. Now, how about we move this party inside the office?”
“I’m going to enjoy gutting you, motherfucker,” King brags. If I wasn’t so worried about keeping Lyla safe while getting back to her in one piece, I would laugh.
“Go on dreaming, asshole,” Craven mocks. I pray King gets the chance to dish out the pain that Craven deserves.
Fuck, I hope I do.
The minute we get inside Craven closes the door. Gina—dumb bitch that she is practically purrs. “There’s my man. Pay attention, Ford. This is a real man,” she says, looking at Craven. “He’s going to take the DC’s in the direction it should have all along and this club will be run right.”
Ford spits in Craven’s direction. “Backstabbing motherfucker is too stupid to run shit.”
“Seems like I’m smarter than you,” Craven crows.
I look over at King and get his attention. I motion toward the gun by Tweet’s dead body. King nods at me. I’m struggling to figure out how to distract the others when Craven laughs. “I’m tired of letting you breathe my air.”
He draws his gun on Ford and I know the fucker has the gun trained right between Ford’s eyes. King’s going after the gun by Tweet, so he’s too far away to help. I’m out of time. I make a split-second decision to try and knock Craven down. He stumbles back and I grab the gun. We wrestle with it and I’m fighting like hell to get it away from Craven. I know a moment of victory because I headbutt Craven and manage to get the gun. Then, before I can do anything, a gunshot rings out. Pain, intense and white hot, slices through me, stealing my breath. I manage to flip over and off Craven, but I can’t catch my breath. I hear another gunshot and I can see King holding a gun and Gina falling to the floor, dead. That would give me satisfaction but I’m thinking I may join her. I want to speak but it’s too hard. My eyes start to close just as King drops down on the floor beside me. He rips off his cut and his thermal shirt underneath. He gathers it and presses it against the wound in my back. I cough and for a second the world goes gray.
I can barely focus. I feel King’s hand tighten on mine. I look up and see Ford looking down at me. I can tell from the look on his face it’s bad. I want him to tell Lyla so much, but I can’t talk. I’m not even sure I can get my mouth to move. Everything feels so heavy…
“T, you need to hold the fuck on. Lyla and the baby need you. You fight it. Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?” King growls and I hear him. I just don’t think there’s much I can do about it. I don’t want to leave Lyla, but I feel myself growing weaker and weaker. “T, damn it, I’ve waited half my life to meet you. Now that I’ve decided I like you, don’t you fucking die.”