Page 91 of Tiny's Law

Grabbing the hand with the gun in it, I slam it repeatedly on the floor. I have to give the crazy fucker credit because he has a fucking death grip on it. At this point, if he shoots me again, I know Ghost won’t let him walk out of here. So I do a risky move with him still having the gun and flip his body in my arms. I wrap him in a chokehold from beneath him, and I’m faintly aware of Tex and Razor carrying the girls out of the house to safety.

Thank Christ.

Ghost stomps on Matt’s hand, and I smile at the sound of the satisfying crunch of his bones along with his gasps for air. He finally lets go of the gun, and his need for air must win as he claws at my arm.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I tuck my chin away from him, and with the smallest extra pull, I snap his neck.

Fucking Christ. All of his body weight drops on mine immediately. “Get this mother fucker off of me!” I shout from beneath him as if I can’t just throw him off.

Ghost drags the slimy fuck by his pant leg, and he smacks the ground with a satisfying thud. I almost wish I wouldn’t have killed him so that I could hurt him some more for everything he put Kourtney and Evie through.

I’m seething as I take in the stupid fuck’s blank face. “You good?” Ghost asks, breathing heavily as if he was the one who did all the work.

I push to my feet and curse as the excruciating burn in my arm makes itself known. “Fuck!” I shout, rolling my sleeve up so I can get a good look at it. Blood trails down my arm. I’m not immune to gunshot wounds, especially with my time in the Marines, but seeing it on myself makes me a little queasy.

Ghost grabs my arm, and I growl at him as my arm throbs in pain. “Looks like it went straight through.”

I rip my shirt off, and Ghost helps me tie it around my arm for pressure to stop the bleeding. “Where are the girls?”

Ghost nods toward the front door. “I’m assuming the guys took them outside. Before you go out there, how are we playing this, man?”

Scrubbing my good hand down my face, I force a breath of frustration. I’m not even a little alarmed at the fact that I just killed a man in my ol’ lady’s kitchen. What’s alarming is that I’m going to have to fucking deal with this shit.

“What do you think?” I ask my president.

Ghost sighs, looking around the kitchen as if taking the scene in for the first time from an outsider's perspective. “We can easily claim self-defense. But then you know damn well all the ropes you’re going to have to climb through.” I eye him, waiting for my other option. “Or we get rid of him,” Ghost shrugs. “Your call.”

Looking up at the ceiling, I know in my gut what the right answer is. Kourtney would never accept if I brushed it under the rug as if nothing happened. Law is her life. Even if I try to persuade her and call it Tiny’s law, she won't take that.

“I can disable the audio feature of her security system and give the police the tapes. They’ll show it was self-defense.”

Ghost smirks. “I had a feeling you had full access to her security, you sick fuck.”

Even with the severity of the situation, I chuckle.

Jogging outside, I quickly retrieve my laptop from my saddle bag and log in to disable all audio, all while deleting all past saved audio from her system. Tucking my laptop back in my bag, I leave the bike right where it is lying on its side on the side of the road. Tex and Razor are nowhere to be found with the girls, so I head back inside. Ghost calls it in, and I see movement through her sliding glass doors.

Tex’s big body is outlined by the soft lights. I head that way, unlocking the door to let them back in.

Kourtney’s scared eyes meet mine, and she immediately starts sobbing. The gash at her forehead already seems to be scabbing over, and her entire body slumps in exhaustion as soon as I gather her in my arms.

Tucking her face into my neck, she sobs. I don’t tell her that everything’s okay because I know, in her brain, it's not. It's going to take time for her to come to terms with the fact that Matt was planning on killing her tonight. That’s not something she’ll just get over at the snap of a finger.

“Is he dead?” she whispers, her lips pressed against my neck.

I nod gently, not wanting to disrupt her.

She whimpers, burrowing further into me. I hold her tightly in my arms and run my good hand through her hair. The arm with the bullet through it lies limp at my side.

Within minutes, sirens surround the house as multiple police officers rush inside. Tex pushes off the chair and holds his hands up. “The weapon is on the ground in the kitchen, and we are all unarmed out here.”

Moments later, a detective around my mom’s age steps through the open door and stops in front of us, immediately noticing the blood trailing down my arm and my shirt tied around the wound. “You need an ambulance, son?”

I shake my head. “I can get myself there eventually.”

“Can someone tell me what happened here?” he asks, his partner carrying the gun out in a clear evidence bag.

“I’ll do you one better,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Actually, babe, go get your laptop.” I pat Kourtney on the thigh.

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