Page 56 of Bully's Darkness
More bullets tear through the air. Screams, chaos, people running. Tires squeal on asphalt. Dagger’s grip tightens, and I feel the heat of him, the rage simmering just beneath his calm.
I twist beneath him. “This is your war. I’m not supposed to be in it.”
He meets my eyes, deadly calm. “You’ve been in it since the moment he fucked my wife.”
A spray of gunfire hits the car parked nearby, and sparks fly as metal is torn apart.
“We have to move,” he growls. “Now.”
Dagger moves fast, fluid, yanking me to my feet with a grip that bruises. “Stay low,” he snaps, shoving me against him as he twists us between two parked cars. More shots crack overhead and screams pierce the air as people scatter.
“We’re gonna make a move,” he tells me. “Around the back of the bar. We can get inside there.” He looks out from behind the cars. “One,” he growls, and I tighten my grip. “Two.” A pause. “Three.”
We make a run for it, reaching the empty beer garden, now abandoned in the chaos. Dagger pulls the back door open and shoves me inside. “Bria,” I scream, looking around at the groups of people huddled together, ducked down behind tables. She stands, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Tyres can be heard outside, screeching away, followed closely by sirens. Dagger spins me to face him. “We need to get out of here.”
“No way,” I say, taking Bria’s hand.
“Your man killed three of mine tonight,” he hisses close to my ear. “And then he came here to try and get me . . . or you.”
“Bully wouldn’t come for me,” I snap.
“What if he saw us together, mama? What if that sent him over the edge? You’re not safe out here.” My throat tightens as blue lights illuminate the bar. “I can keep you safe.”
“No,” says Bria, holding me back. “We don’t even know you.”
“Liv,” he says, holding out a hand.
My mind is racing as adrenaline surges around my body. “You should get out of here,” I almost whisper. “Before they come in and start asking questions.”
Chapter Sixteen
Bully
My mobile buzzes across the dresser, bringing me from my sleep. I grab it blindly, not bothering to open my eyes. “Huh?”
“Bully, it’s Mark Taylor.” I frown, pushing to sit up. He’s a police officer my uncle had on the payroll for years. I glance at my phone to check the time. One a.m. “I thought you should know The Woodthorpe was shot up tonight.” He pauses a beat before adding, “Your old lady was there.”
I dive from the bed, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I tug my jeans on. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, just a bit shook up. Said she didn’t see anything cos she was inside. There were casualties, Bully. Too many.”
“Do you know who was behind it?”
“No. There’re turf wars kicking off every damn day at the minute.”
“Yeah?”
“You wouldn’t know anything about coke flooding in?”
I pause, running my fingers through my hair. “I can tell you there’s been a chink in the chain of supply, so you’ll see it drying up for a short time. Longer if I have my way.”
“Good to know, Bully. Keep up the good work.” And he disconnects.
Taz and Smiler are less than impressed when I drag their arses out of bed. Taz joins us in my office still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “The one night I decide to get my head down early and you wake me at,” he checks his watch, “quarter past one in the morning.” He yawns as he sits beside Smiler.
“The Woodthorpe was shot up tonight. Liv was there.” Taz mutters a string of curses, and I hold up my hand to stop him. “She’s fine. Just shaken up.”
