Page 32 of The Highwaymen

And Romeo was going to hand us over to them. Pin his own crimes on us and let the Jaliscos rip us apart in retribution. It was a smart play, I had to admit. No one would question it when our mangledbodies turned up in a ditch somewhere. Just another casualty of the cartel wars.

“That’s right, ese,” Romeo said, beaming. “The Jalisco boys, they've been on my ass for months about their missing product,” Romeo said conversationally, as if discussing the weather. “See, they don't take too kindly to having their shit stolen. I been looking for someone to pin it on, and who better than a coked-out truck driver and his junkie whore?”

“Fuck you!” Jamie said, struggling.

He grinned, all teeth. “Oh, they'll have a field day with you two. The Jaliscos, they've got a real creative streak when it comes to making an example outta rats. They'll start with the fingers, I bet. Snip 'em off one by one with a pair of bolt cutters. Maybe feed 'em to you, make you swallow your own finger bones.”

Jamie shuddered against the gun barrel, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed convulsively. But he kept his eyes locked on mine, blazing with that manic light. My brave, crazy boy. He wouldn't give Romeo the satisfaction of seeing his fear.

“After the fingers, they'll move on to the toes,” Romeo continued blithely. “Blowtorch the little piggies 'til they're charcoal. Then they'll flay the skin off your feet in strips, slow and agonizing. By the end, you'll be beggin' them to just cut the damn things off.”

Jamie's chest heaved, but he bared his bloodstained teeth in a feral grin. “Sounds like a real fun time. Keep talking. I’m about to bust a fucking nut listening to you.”

Romeo's face contorted with rage. He pistol-whipped Jamie across the face, splitting his cheek open. Jamie let out a grunt of pain but kept on grinning like a madman, blood dripping down his chin.

“Oh, I'm gonna enjoy watchingthem break you, puta,” Romeo snarled. “You'll be cryin' and pleadin' by the end, beggin' me to put a bullet in your fuckin' skull.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, bile rising in my throat at the thought of my beautiful boy being tortured and mutilated. Of his perfect skin being flayed from his body, his bones snapped and pulverized.

I'd die before I let that happen. I'd rip Romeo's fucking throat out with my bare hands if I had to.

But with that gun to Jamie's head, I was powerless. One wrong move and his brains would be painting the dirt.

I just needed an opening. A single second of distraction. Anything. Then all I had to do was get a gun away from one of these other fuckers and pray.

Just then, the Airstream trailer door slammed open with a resounding clang. All eyes snapped towards the sound, and there, silhouetted in the doorway, stood Tammy. She was a bloody, battered mess, her shirt torn to shreds and soaked crimson, her face a mask of gore. One eye was swollen completely shut, her nose clearly broken. But in her hands, she clutched an M16 assault rifle, finger already hovering over the trigger.

“Which one of you punk ass motherfuckers killed my Dee-Dee?” she roared and opened fire.

The rapid staccato of gunfire filled the night air as Tammy sprayed bullets wildly into the crowd of Romeo's goons. Men screamed and crumpled to the ground, clutching at their wounds. Blood misted in arcing crimson fountains.

In the chaos, Romeo's grip on Jamie loosened just a fraction. It was enough. Jamie slammed his head back into Romeo's face with asickening crunch. The gangster howled, staggering back. The gun clattered to the ground.

I lunged for it, my fingers scrabbling in the dirt. Just as my hand closed around the grip, a heavy boot stomped down on my wrist. I cried out in pain, feeling the small bones grind together.

Romeo loomed over me, his face a twisted mask of rage and pain. Blood gushed from his shattered nose. “You fucking bastard!” he snarled, raising his foot to stomp on my head.

Suddenly, Jamie was there. He leaped onto Romeo's back with a feral screech, sinking his teeth into the gangster's ear. Romeo screamed, flailing and staggering. Jamie held on like a rabid wolverine, teeth ripping and tearing.

Romeo thrashed and spun, trying to dislodge Jamie from his back. But Jamie just clamped his jaws tighter, worrying at Romeo's ear like a dog with a bone. Blood poured down the side of the gangster's neck in dark rivulets.

I scrabbled for the gun, my fingers closing around the grip. I rolled to my back and took aim, but the two of them were a whirling dervish of flailing limbs and gnashing teeth. I couldn't get a clear shot without risking hitting Jamie.

“Fuck!” I growled in frustration. “Jamie, let him go!”

Romeo finally managed to reach back and seize a fistful of Jamie's hair. With a pained roar, he wrenched Jamie over his shoulder and slammed him to the ground. I heard the sickening thud of Jamie's skull impacting the hard-packed dirt. Romeo cursed, put a hand over his ear, and took off through the junkyard.

“Jamie!”

I scrambled to my feet, the gun forgotten as I ran to Jamie's side. He lay crumpled on the ground, his limbs splayed at unnatural angles. Blood matted the hair on one side of his head and seeped into the soil.

“Jamie! Jamie, talk to me,” I pleaded, dropping to my knees beside him. I reached out with a shaking hand to brush the blood-soaked hair from his face. His skin was cold and clammy, his eyes closed. Panic seized my chest in an icy grip. He couldn't be dead. Not Jamie.

Behind me, gunfire continued to rip through the night, accompanied by the agonized screams of dying men. Tammy's furious battle cry rose above it all, raw and primal. The stench of blood and cordite hung heavy in the air, stinging my nostrils.

But I barely registered any of it. My entire world narrowed down to Jamie’s still form. I gathered Jamie into my arms, cradling him against my chest. “Come on, Jamie, open those pretty eyes for me,” I begged, my voice cracking. “If you die on me, I’ll follow you to hell to kick your ass.”

A small, pained moan escaped Jamie's split lips and relief flooded my body. His eyelids fluttered, revealing slivers of glassy blue. “Stu?”

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