Page 38 of O'Mega's Revenge
“Haven’t you done enough damage?”
Trot frowned at Missile. “She’s not going anywhere until we get answers. Why the fuck are you here, and who is the asshole who killed Margaret?”
She didn’t give anyone a chance to answer before she added, “And if no one will tell me, I’m taking this asshole out first.” Her gun didn’t waiver at Wolf’s temple.
He froze.
“Well, well, well. You were right, they can protect their own. Somewhat.” Nonno strode up, flanked by another half-dozen men. These I had never met. I guessed they were his bodyguards. His eyes lingered on Margaret’s body.
“Who killed Margaret?” Trot asked.
Nonno glanced up at Trot from the body. “Not us.”
Missile raised her rifle; the bodyguards instantly raised their weapons. That didn’t stop her, or Quick, or any other Devil’s Handmaiden who had grabbed guns from adding their arms to the party.
“We’re all friends here,” Jackson started.
“The hell we are,” Trot replied.
“Alright, not friends. Not outright enemies, either correct?”
He and I were about the only ones not holding a fucking gun in that moment. His eyes met mine. “Tits, your call.”
Enemies or friends? I glanced around the circle. Sprout stood off to one side. His handgun held lax at his side. I counted his wife as one of my friends. He’d never done anything to tip the scales away. The speck at his side once offered to paint my bike.
My eyes slid to Jackson’s. He was a wild card. I couldn’t trust him at all. But Wolf gave him his loyalty, so he must have a redeeming quality somewhere under his skin. Then I looked at Wolf, kneeling at my side with Trot’s gun to his temple.
“Not enemies,” I answered Jackson’s question.
“Cool.” He motioned with his hand and every Skilletsville chapter member tucked their weapons away.
Then he addressed Trot. “I don’t know who shot her.” His eyes dipped down, and I could have sworn regret crossed his face. But the mask he usually wore slipped back into place quickly. “We will help you find out who though, right, Nonno? I mean, they fired on us, too.”
He glared at his in-all-but-name-only boss.
“Right, Nonno?” He prompted when the answer didn’t come fast enough.
“You bet. It will get handled.” He nodded at Trot sealing the pact.
“I want to handle it,” she pressed her gun harder against Wolf’s temple.
“Understandable. And you have our offer of help.” Nonno spoke as if he could control the circumstances.
Trot put the gun away and brushed her hand against her leg. Wisely, she didn’t say she was taking or denying the offer. “Tits?”
“She’s coming with us,” Nonno ordered.
“The fuck she is.” Trot’s words were drowned out by Missile’s.
“I still got a gun on you, asshole, so don’t go talking out of your ass.”
“Leash your bitch.”
That was the wrong thing for Nonno to say. Sprout winced, and Jackson’s eyebrow rose.
Trot’s face dropped into a deadly, empty glare. “No. See, unlike you, I don’t believe in empty orders. She’s got every reason to plug your ass. The only reason she hasn’t is because she’s waiting for me to tell her it’s okay.”
One thing about Trot, she didn’t lie. I admired that about her.
