Page 39 of Dark Alleys

How could they? They’d look like wussies, and they’d get their asses kicked to the fuckin’ curb by their own club enforcer.

Perez moved forward.

The Tango Blast stood their ground.

Shields up, the SWAT guys made a solid wall behind the barrier. Their automatic weapons were trained on the gang in front of them.

Standoff.

Nobody moved and there was a sweaty, electric silence hanging in the air.

Waiting for the first shot. Then the night would go to hell.

I was tired and miserable, and I wanted to go home to bed, so I thought I might as well end it.

Full dark and nobody could see me. I’d made my way all the way to the barricade and was standing right where I wanted to be—next to Perez.

Adan Pena, enforcer for the Blast, was supposed to be protecting the boss, and he was nowhere near either one of us.

I checked.

While Farrell hollered out another warning for both sides to stand the fuck down, I rammed my knife upwards between Perez’s ribs and into his heart.

Before he collapsed and hit the pavement, I was in my truck going home to bed.

Deterrent.

Chapter Eight

Monday, June 9th.

Riverside District. Austin.

When I finally opened my eyes and checked my messages, there was one from Blacky. Not that I didn’t expect it.

“Ten o’clock work for you?”

“I’ll be there.”

I glanced at the time on my phone, and it was already ten after nine. Not enough sleep, but apparently I wasn’t going back to bed.

A glance at my knife and I was pissed at myself for not cleaning it as soon as I got home the night before.

That’s Perez’s blood crusted on there.

I got right at it and had the blade gleaming and back in the case in no time flat.

Shower was next and I was short on time. Couldn’t wait for coffee to brew at my place. I had to grab caffeine and breakfast on the way to the Agency.

Blacky made no allowances for lateness. He wasn’t the kind of boss who listened to excuses and in the business of violent crime, I understood that better than most. You did what you had to do because if you didn’t, you would wind up dead.

I wasn’t sure what Blacky would say about the way I handled the near riot, but I didn’t see a quicker or more peaceful way to end it.

Perez wasn’t collateral damage. He was half of the problem, no matter how you sliced at it.

The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

Blacky opened the side door and let me in. His two big dogs ran towards me barking and wagging their tails. Nice dogs and I stopped to pet both of them.

---