Page 19 of Encounter

Once my lungs started fighting back and my arms protested, I hung them down. Jack the skinhead was nothing but a broken down, rasping, struggling sack of meat.

Letting out a long-winded sigh, I rubbed my sweaty forehead, probably spreading the blood everywhere. Before straightening my back, I reached for one of the guns. There was no way he was going to survive this, but if by some twisted chance he was, I wasn’t going to let him waste taxpayer’s money as a vegetable somewhere. “Good talk,” I mumbled as I stood, and then pulled the trigger.

Standing there as the shot still rang in my ears, I took a deep breath and let my head fall back, staring at the black, moonless sky.

Goddamn mess.

The wound on my arm, and the smaller one on my side, burned as the adrenaline left my bloodstream. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to ground myself and settle down, but the clicking of the back door distracted me, making me turn.

Mike carefully walked toward me, observing my handiwork as he stepped over the bodies. I took the magazine out and dropped the gun once he got close, turning to him with a sigh.

“This party got kinda out of hand,” I said, unsure of how he was going to react. “Fuck. Did someone call the cops?” Judging by a quick look at the windows, most people had dispersed. Galen wasn’t there, either.

“You know it’ll take them ages to get here,” Mike said, waving his hand. He was an ex-army, so his reaction to the dead bodies was almost non-existent. “This wasn’t your fault. These fuckers have been lurkin’ around causin’ trouble for a while. If you ask me, good riddance.” Arching a brow, he tapped Jack’s hand with his shoe to make sure he was dead.

I rested my hands on my hips. “Yeah, well... Now we gotta—”

“Don’t worry,” he added in a calm voice. “This place used to be much wilder back in the day. Wouldn’t be the first time we had to clean up the trash...”

Acknowledging what he meant with a surprised hum, I lifted my brows.

“We’ll take care of it. The cops won’t ask many questions, and no one’ll seriously look for these bastards. Go clean yourself up and take the kid. He looks like he'll faint.”

Chuckling, I rubbed the back of my neck and nodded.Right, shit. Galen.

“Thanks, man,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. I was never good at cleanup, anyway. “You sure know how to keep your customers happy,” I added playfully as I passed him. The quiet cleaning lady I had seen around the place for years was getting out of the back door and stood aside holding it open for me.

She seemed inconspicuous and weak, but when she looked at me, there was something dangerous in her eyes.

“Good luck with that.”

“We’ll manage,” she said with a strange smile, nodding.

Letting the door close behind me, I looked around the room. Some brave girls were already on the stage, trying to get things going again, and the people at the bar probably had a pretty good topic of conversation now, judging by the noise. Sometimes I forgot I wasn’t the only one used to the brutal parts of life—this was Vixen’s Nest, after all, not some fancy establishment in the city center.

Karin’s red hair pulled my attention. She sat on the armrest of one of the leather chairs to the side, hands rested in her lap, eyes fixated at the floor.

Sighing deeply, I made my way to her.

“Are you alright?” I asked, trying to be soft and careful. Abusive or not, me killing her boyfriend and three other people probably wasn’t something she was ready for tonight. “That umm— Sorry about that.”

“Does it make me a bad person...? Being glad he’s dead?” She spoke in an emotionless tone and glanced up at me as if asking for guidance. Taken aback, I blinked and cleared my throat.

“‘Course not. I warned him. He came back. He was like a rabid dog—so he had to be put down,” I said firmly, hoping she wouldn’t feel any guilt about whatIdid.

Karin lowered her eyes, and a faint smile flashed over her lips. Then, as if she turned on some switch, she stood up and stepped closer to me with a sweet expression. “Thank you,” she whispered, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I wasn’t entirely sure if I did it all to protect my ego or because those bastards were hurting people I liked seeing around, but the warmth in her voice made those worries go away. “You should see Larissa and Galen at the bar,” she added, and before I could say anything else, she rushed toward the stage.

I touched the wound on my arm and realized I still had blood all over me. Glancing at the bar, I saw Galen’s head next to Larissa’s bleached hair. Knowing he was in good hands, I headed for the bathrooms.

No way I’d be able to go around Galen’s neighborhood looking like this. Rich people are way too quick to call the cops.

I lifted the sleeve of my shirt to see how bad the cut was. It was probably going to need stitches, but not here. Same with the wound on my side. I got pretty lucky with dodging that one.

The blood wasn’t visible on my black shirt, so I cleaned up my face and hands and headed out.Now to deal with the boy.

As I maneuvered around the people at the bar—and tried to ignore their congratulatory stares—I fixated on Galen standing next to the wall, holding a glass of what seemed to be bourbon, and staring at the ground. Judging by the unhealthy shade of his face, he was either seconds from passing out or throwing up.Great.

Larissa next to him noticed me first and shook his shoulder.

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