Page 87

Damn. The mere memory of her standing over him yelling, the anger bright in her grey eyes has my dick twitching.

Reaching down, I adjust my boner to keep from ending up with a permanent zipper imprint.

“Dude,” Brix says under his breath.

I don’t respond. Not like he doesn’t know why I’m hard. And neither he nor Kato can say they haven’t walked around with hard dicks since we dragged Everest back home.

“So none of you have a clue what happened to my merchandise?” Kato says, his voice rising.

Which, of course, indicates his anger is also rising. He’s never been very good at hiding his emotions. Instead of wearing his heart on his sleeve, his voice reveals the level of his ire.

“Looks like you’re up,” Brix says with a smirk.

I stalk closer, glancing at Kato for the green light. Brixton’s size and intimidating appearance often is enough to loosen someone’s lips. Me? I’m more of ashoot now, ask questions laterkind of soldier.

Anyone who’s worked for us long enough knows I have zero problem putting a bullet in their brain pan or opening a jugular.

He dips his head once and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “One chance,” I call out.

Only a few people are looking at me; everyone else has their eyes glued to their shoes as though a glance in my direction will turn them to stone.

When no one offers up any answers or admits fault, I pull my pistol from the back of my pants, aim it at the head of the first asshole to my right, and squeeze the trigger.

The sound reverberates throughout the warehouse and those close enough are splattered with blood, pieces of skull, and chunks of brain.

One dude pisses himself. Another doubles over and pukes, the contents of his stomach mixing with the gore seeping from the dead dude’s head as he lays crumpled on the concrete floor.

“That was the only chance. Now, I can either start picking you off one by one or someone can give me a reason to put my gun away.”

Honestly, I’m torn. This is the shit I’ve lived for over the past four fucking years. I love the adrenaline, the fear I tend to put in fuckers’ heads.

But it’s also keeping me from being at home. I know I need to do my job.

Protecting Everest is a way more important job in my books, and these assholes are keeping me from doing exactly that.

Lifting my arm again, I point at the next dude in line.

He throws his hands up and tries to back away. “I have nothing to do with it. I don’t know shit.”

I almost feel bad when I squeeze the trigger and there’s a split moment of terror and surprise at the bang just before the bullet enters his forehead.

“Like I said, I don’t give second chances. Mr. Antoniou tried to play nice with you. Being here is putting me in a shitty mood. So, I don’t mind executing every single fucking one of you.”

A man who looks somewhere in his mid-twenties steps forward, his head up, but eyes cast at my feet as though afraid to meet my gaze.

Lowering my arm, I shove men out of my way until I’m almost chest to chest with the dude. “You got something to offer up?”So I can go home and fuck my wife.

I keep that last part to myself. Not their business, don’t want to reveal shit about Everest or our private life, and Kato will ream my ass for saying shit about her.

“I didn’t steal anything. But I, uh…” His eyes cut to the side, not directly at anyone, but as though he’s worried about saying anything in front of his peers.

Doesn’t matter. The fact he stepped forward is telling enough. If any other of these jackasses are involved, they’ll either kill him for singing or snitch to whoever they’re working for.

“Someone here?” I ask him.

He shakes his head.

“But you know who’s responsible,” I say rather than ask.