Page 60 of Wild Side
I don’t recognize the voice, but that doesn’t mean shit. It could be someone I know. It could just be one of the buyer’s men. Some random fucking guy who is here to do dirty work. I don’t know, but what I do know is that nobody here is going to get away with a goddamn thing.
He pushes the cool metal of the gun’s barrel harder against my head, but I don’t move. I don’t want to die today, but at the same time, I’m not a fucking pussy. The man in front of me tilts his head to the side. I stare at him, my jaw clenched.
Before another word is spoken, Lightning and Viking appear behind the buyer. The man behind me lets out a laugh. “You make a single fucking move, and your friend here is dead,” he growls.
The buyer slowly turns around, likely feeling very brave in this moment. I’m not sure what look he gives Lightning and Viking, but they don’t appreciate it, judging by the scowls they return.
“I’m here to pick up my boxes,” the buyer announces. “And I won’t be paying for them.”
It’s not an extreme amount of money. Less than a hundred grand worth of shit. He’s getting it at a huge discount, so I’m not quite sure why he would put himself in danger this way. I open my mouth to ask him that when a loud thump hits my ears, then I’m surrounded by darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MAVERICK
“Wake up,”a voice snaps. “Right fucking now.”
I feel a sharp pain in my ribs and let out a long groan. Forcing my eyes open, I look around to see that I’m in the same place I was, in the shop, but I am definitely not where I want to be, which is on the floor.
Trying not to make a sound, I search for Lightning and Viking, but if they’re here, they aren’t within my line of vision. Neither is anyone else. I’m seemingly alone, even though I know I’m not. I can’t be, because someone just kicked my ribs not too long ago.
Then boots and jeans appear in front of me. See? Not alone. I knew I wasn’t. The person crouches, and that’s when I see his face. It’s not who I expect. Who I expected to see in my line of sight was the fucking buyer. But no, that’s not who is looking at me in the fucking eyes.
I recognize the man in front of me, not because he’s a client, but because he’s hung around the club before. He’s partied with us, and I’m confused as fuck as to what’s going on. I don’t evenknow how he ended up here, let alone with my buyer. What the fuck is going on?
What the actual fuck?
I start to ask him when he decides to grace me with the knowledge of why he’s here and what the fuck he actually wants from me. I bite the inside of my cheek, worrying it as I think about how to not only get out of there, but also, where the fuck are my men?
“I want to take over your little operation. I’ve been watching you guys for a while, and I think I could really make this work. So what’s going to happen is that I’m going to tie you up with the rest of your little bitch boyfriends, and we’re taking everything.”
Before I can respond, he grabs ahold of my bicep, and then I feel another set of hands on my other bicep. I guess I won’t be reaching for my gun. They drag me away, and I know I could fight and take them both down, but I decide to wait until I know exactly what I’m being dragged into… literally.
They take me toward the small office, where we hold our paperwork and files on legitimate clients, none of which is anywhere near close to up to date. Lightning, Viking, and Bullet are there, tied together, their backs against one another. I swear to fuck it looks like one of those action flicks.
The only way this could be any more cliché would be if the assholes claimed they were going to set the building on fire or something. I might actually laugh if they said that shit. Like they’re some kind of evil masterminds.
“Where are the prospects?” I ask.
“You mean those fucks who betrayed us for a few bucks?” Viking asks.
Oh, fucking hell.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I hiss.
I almost forget that these two pieces of shit are in the room with us and that I need to overpower their asses so we can getwhatever this is completely and totally figured the fuck out and stopped.
“No,” Bullet grinds out. “We are not.”
I take this moment to get rid of these two idiots who have my arms. First, by lifting my leg and kicking the knee out of the fuck on my right, the hang-around that decided he was going to beBilly Badassbut failed fucking miserably.
He falls to the floor with a cry, and I use my now free hand, balling it into a fist as I swing it around and land a punch, slamming it into his eye and hopefully causing irreparable damage.
He falls back as well, which gives me the opportunity to reach for the gun in my shoulder holster, something they didn’t think to check, which was fucking stupid on their part, also something that I find pretty fucking hilarious.
I hear the fucker I kicked in the knee struggling as I pull my gun out, pointing it directly at him. I arch a brow, jerking my head over to his friend, who is moaning and rolling around, holding his eye.
Once again, this feels too easy. This is too seamless. “Slide it on fucking over,” I grunt.
