Page 7

“Where?” I barked.

“That way,” Leighton replied, firing shots from his stolen weapon into the advancing group of men before pointing in the direction behind our SUV.

“Can you hold them off?” I asked.

“Can you hold them off?” Leighton mimicked. “If Joey could snap the fuck out of it,maybewe get out of this alive.”

I turned my gaze back to where Joey had fallen next to Rich’s body, seeming to stare down at him without really seeing anything. His hands hovered close but not touching him either.

“Fuck.” I grumbled, grabbing the gun off one of the dead Jackals. I scrambled over to Joey, grabbed him by his shoulders, and hauled him to his feet. Turning him to face me, I drew back and slapped him. That did it. Joey blinked a few times in a daze before his gaze shifted to a dark rage I’d never seen before. “He’s already gone, and he wouldn’t want you to stand here and let yourself get killed too.” I snapped, putting the gun in his hands.“Get your shit together and help Leighton, ornoneof us make it out of this alive.”

Joey had barely wrapped his hand around the gun when a sharp whistle tore through the air. My head snapped toward the sound, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth from dropping open in shock. The men who’d been advancing on us were now retreating. Piling into their vehicles as quickly as they could while trying to dodge Leighton’s shots.

“What they fuck is happening?” Leighton asked, as confused as I was. “They have us. They fucking have us, and they’re just…. Running away?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue, but we need to get Rich’s body and move before they change their minds.”

“What aboutMa Petitand Craig?”

My bloodied hands tore through my hair as I tried to think, coming up with nothing of use. “I don’t know. I don’tfucking know.”

“We can’t just do nothing.” Leighton balked.

“Don’t you think I know that? Fuck, Leighton. We should be dead. All of us. Not just…” my voice cracked. “Not just Rich. This isn’t… He’s supposed to be here to tell us what the fuck to do.” My words grew more frantic as I began to pace. “This isn’t like our other skirmishes, this is… this... Fuck!”

My head rocked to the side as Leighton’s palm cracked across my cheek. “Snap out of it. Fuck, you’re supposed to be the more levelheaded one here. Psycho,” he pointed at himself before pointing at Joey, “Kid brother,” then pointing at me, “Az-hole.”

“What… the fuck does that even mean!?” I snapped.

“Itmeansfuckface, that you’ve had to step into Rich’s shoes before. So fucking do it.” Leighton hissed, slapping me a second time before bellowing. “Catharsis!”

I don’t know why it worked, but it did. When my ears stopped ringing, I looked around the scene again, and I could feel the panic ebbing away. We needed to get the fuck out of dodge, and we sure as fuck weren’t leaving Rich behind.

“Body or brother?” I asked Leighton, using the term to compartmentalize what was happening.

Leighton studied me momentarily just as police sirens sounded through the night. “Brother.”

As quickly and carefully as I could, I loaded Rich's body into the back of the SUV while Leighton handled Joey. None of us spoke as the vehicle doors shut around us, and we tore away from the scene. With nowhere else to go, I turned us toward the Spotted Cobra. We couldn't be touched there, assuming Harrison didn't toss us out on our asses.

I knew we looked like hell when we finally pulled into the gravel lot of the Cobra and unloaded from the vehicle. Joey let out a pained sound, his hand lingering on the door a moment longer than necessary before he straightened to his full height and turned toward the bar entrance. We pushed through the doors, nearly shoulder to shoulder, catching Mags and Harrison's attention immediately. I swept my gaze around the room, thankful the place was basically empty aside from the father-daughter duo.

“What the fuck happened to you boys?” They said almost in unison. Mags' eyes widened, and she gathered a few bar towels, handing them to her father, who stood and strode over to us.

“Every thug in the city came for us at once,” I grunted.

“Yeah, but you should see ‘em.” Leighton chuckled. “Splat.” He waved his hands down and to the side in a flattening motion.

“And the rest of you?” Mags asked cautiously, raising a brow.

“Victoria and Craig were taken during the shit show and–” I started.

“Rich is… in the car. He… won’t be coming in,” Joey said, his voice sounding almost automatic. Harrison and Mags exchanged a heavy glance, catching his meaning.

Joey's words flipped a switch in Leighton. All traces of humor wiped from his face as he grabbed the nearest barstool and slammed it into the bar with enough force to break it apart. Mags' reaction was instant. She launched over the counter, grabbing Leighton's arm before twisting it violently behind him. In the time it took me to blink, she had him slammed face-first onto the sticky bar floor, her knee pressed between his shoulder blades.

“That’s enough, Gatlin Magazine. Let the boy up. He didn’t mean no harm.” Harrison’s droll voice echoed through the bar. “Though, you boys will be replacing that stool, with interest.”

“Gatlin… Magazine?” Joey murmured, blinking at us.