Page 76 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“Oh, for f—” Jake groans and rolls his eyes.

“We’re interrupting something,” I reply, noticing how he keeps one hand on the coat pocket in question. “What do you have there?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business,” Jake says.

“I suggest the two of you get out of here and start putting that money together,” the cartel goon says, nowhere near as impressed by our presence and weapons as I had hoped. This clearly isn’t the first time he’s been caught seemingly unprepared. “My boss is running out of patience.”

Ethan scoffs. “Your boss needs to get his head out of his ass. How did he buy this asshole’s story, anyway? His girlfriend tried to run off with two million dollars’ worth of cocaine? Really?”

“You were told to put that money upfront,” the goon replies. “Nobody’s got time for finger pointing and explanations. Jake knows what he’s gotta do. You, on the other hand, seem to have a comprehension problem.”

“What I also have is a fucking Glock pointed at you,” Ethan says. “Back off Melissa Carson. She had nothing to do with your drugs.”

“She pled guilty,” Jake chimes in.

I point my gun at him. “And we both know how that came to happen. Don’t make me rid you of your kneecaps this early in the game. Come clean.”

“Or I’ll make you,” Ethan adds, equally determined to hurt Jake.

I hear a familiar clicking sound and look over my shoulder. My stomach instantly drops at the sight of two more cartel fellas coming in, both sporting AK-47s and some nasty looks on their faces.

The first goon chuckles dryly. “You boys should’ve planned this better. I don’t go anywhere alone.”

Ethan looks around, realizing the monumental pile of shit we walked into. “Where did they come from?” he grumbles.

“Inside, probably,” I reply. We’re screwed.

“Might as well pop 'em,” one of the men says.

But Jake intervenes. “No, you need them. They’re the ones with the money.”

“He’s not as dumb as he looks,” the second goon chuckles.

“There were three of them. These two can rot, for all I fucking care. Maybe it’ll incentivize their brother to pay up.”

Jake is about to object. But Ethan moves faster. In a single split-second, he shoots one of the men in the shoulder.

I immediately turn around and start firing. I get goon number two in the stomach. The third one fires back, but Ethan and I are already on the move. Jake hides behind his car, taking cover, while my brother and I run along the north side of the building.

“Move! Move!” I shout.

“Cover me!” Ethan says.

Without hesitation, I fire a couple more rounds. The third goon tries to catch up, but I manage to shoot him in the leg.

Ethan picks up speed, and so do I.

We turn the corner and bolt as fast as we can. The pavement is partially frozen. There are patches of snow, too. It makes it difficult for a clean run, so our boots slip now and then, slowing us down.

I hear someone shouting an order and Jake contradicting him. But their voices fade as we reach the front of the storage complex again. We don’t stop until we run past the gates and return to our truck.

“You drive,” I tell Ethan and toss him the keys.

He catches them, then slips the gun back into his holster and gets behind the wheel.

Just in time, too.

Another guy catches up, firing shot after shot.

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