Page 66 of Mimic

“You beat the shit out of him in the middle of Main Street and then had him killed.”

“Now, Skinner, again, you’re misinformed. Massacre, a member of the Golden Skulls, was the one who beat the shit out of yourfriend.Not us.”

“He was staying in your fucking house,” Skinner sneered.

“That is true. He came to get his wife. They’ve since gone back to California. You’re welcome to take it up with Reaper. But our prospect wasn’t involved. You owe us.”

“Prez,” Vulture whispered. Skinner held up his hand, cutting him off.

“What do you want?” Skinner asked.

“Well,” King leaned back against the booth, folding his arms over his chest as though he had all the time in the world.

Meanwhile, I was sitting here using every ounce of control I had not to lose my shit and ask why they wanted Indie.

“I had planned to ask for restitution, money for the kid’s family. But then your man Sting fucked up and went after one of our women. Now I’m thinking a life for a life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, King?”

“My enforcer’s old lady.”

Now I was using my control not to fucking react. She wasn’t my old lady yet. And he’d told me to stay the fuck away from her.

“He went into one of our businesses, punched her in the face and knocked her unconscious. If that wasn’t bad enough, he showed up at her apartment in the middle of the night and tried to fucking kidnap her.”

I had my eye on Vulture. He was the one Sting said wanted her. His hands were clenched tight together, and his face was turning red.

“And to top it off, he tried to grab her from the fucking coffee shop when she was with my VP’s old lady.”

Vulture launched himself forward, leaning on the table, and screamed in King’s face, “She’s my fucking daughter, and I want her back.”

Until that moment, we had all been sitting in the booth. Every one of us, aside from King, stood, knocking the tables in front of us to the ground, and pulled our guns.

The Death Dogs pulled their own guns. We might be outnumbered, we might not even survive, but we wouldn’t go down without a fight. And we’d take as many of them with us as we could.

The front door opened, and a man in a sheriff’s uniform walked in. He walked between the Death Dogs, even pushing an arm or two out of the way until he stood by the table with King and Skinner.

“Hello, boys, heard you might need a mediator.”

“Sheriff, look around,” Skinner said, standing up to face the sheriff. “You’re outnumbered; they’re outnumbered. Who do you think is walking out of here alive?”

“You might be right there, but by my estimation, only a few of you will be walking out, and my deputies will scoop you up orput you down as you do. I do know one thing, though. You won’t be walking out of here alive.”

The sheriff nodded his head at Skinner’s chest. The small red dot bounced around over his heart. He looked through the window, but he’d never see where Winchester was hiding.

Turning back to King, Skinner growled, “I want my nephew and Vulture’s daughter.”

“And I want world peace. We don’t always get what we fucking want,” King replied, sitting back against the booth. He might look calm and unconcerned, but those of us who knew him, knew he was ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“This isn’t over,” Skinner snarled as he shoved Vulture toward the door. His men went with him. The last one being an Enforcer named Harrow. He locked eyes with me before pointing the index and middle fingers of his right hand at his eyes and then swinging them around toward me.

Yeah, asshole. I’ve got my eye on you too.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Mimic

“King, I presume?” The sheriff sat down in the chair Skinner vacated and reached his hand out to my president.