Page 116 of Dirty Hearts

“Hey, you!” One of the idiots cried and fired a shot at me.

I dodged it and whipped out my gun, shooting them both.

I spared no time. Goliath was down in the sewer, and I’d be damned if I was going to allow him to escape.

“Go to the left, Claudius,” Cora cried, making my ear piece buzz from the hurriedness in her tone. “He just made a run for it. If you go left, you’ll meet him at the bend. Quickly!”

I ran, doing exactly as she said.

“There!” she cried, and oh yes, he was there. The bastard ran straight into my awaiting fist that connected with his stupid shocked face as I jumped up and whacked him.

The asshole wet down and dropped his bag. I didn’t let him recover. I was on him like the plague. Fists flying in his face as I allowed the anger to take me.

That was my mistake. I should have shot him and blown his head right off his miserable body.

My anger blindsided me, and I underestimated his strength. They didn’t call him Goliath for nothing.

He flipped me over, and I knocked my head on the concrete floor. The dirty green and brown sewer water that flowed around us splashed all around me.

Goliath growled and landed a powerful fist in my face.

“Fucking mobster, it’s you again. Wow. I thought the message we sent you was loud and clear, but no, the greedy mobster came after me,” he taunted, eyes wild and feral.

The punch made me see stars, and I couldn’t see straight.

“You’re dead, motherfucker.” Anger might have been my downfall, but it was also my strength. It gave me the force to get him off me with a headbutt that sent him reeling backwards. Blood spurted from his nose.

Didn’t stop him from coming after me. This time, I reached for my gun, whipped it out, and shot him. But damn it, I only got him in his shoulder. His fucking shoulder. And… that only slowed him down.

I fired another shot in his chest as he came for me, but it didn’t stop him. That should have stopped him. That should have got him. I aimed for his heart.

Why the fuck didn’t it stop him?

He stumbled but regained his footing and laughed, pulling back his shirt to show what I knew in an instant to be a fucking bulletproof vest.

“Cheater,” I snarled.

“Didn’t you wear one?” he spat. “Anyone with common sense would.” His bulbous eyes bulged, and the vein at his temple popped as he laughed.

I had to aim for the head. It was always the head with these guys. I’d cut Victor Pertrinkov’s head right off his miserable body. With this guy, I was going to blow it off.

I held the gun up high, ready to pull back the trigger, then something hit me hard in my head.

Felt like a damn baseball bat. Right to the back of my head. Fuck. Another blow to my back sent me down, and another flat on my face.

“Aren’t you going to kill him?” a voice said from behind.

That voice… who was it?

It sounded like Alex, but it could have been Jude. Sometimes they sounded the same. It was weird.

Fuck…

“Not yet. I have a better idea. Let’s play a game,” Goliath snarled and sent a kick straight to my face.

My head snapped backwards, and I instantly blacked out.

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