Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(118)

He regarded the syringe, twisting it between his fingers. “I guess I don’t have to abandon the plan completely, even though you and your brothers”—he spat the word at Gabriel—“have retired all of my business partners.” His gaze went back to me. “I’m a reasonable man. I like my plans. And it vexed me when you didn’t go to plan. See, of everything that I thought could go wrong, all the chaos, I thought the junkie with childhood issues would be the surest thing. You’d be the biggest distraction so the entire club would be focusing on their bleeding limb and wouldn’t notice when I came in and chopped the head off.” He stepped forward, and the allure of what he held in his hand did the same. “But you were the thread that unraveled it all.”

I sneered at him. “Well, I’m sorry I f*cked up your little plan. I’ll send a card to your funeral.”

He smiled. “Still so sure, what, that your man will come and save you?” He glanced to Gabriel. The cords in his neck were almost exploding with the effort of his struggle, his helpless eyes on me. “Sorry, that’s not going to happen. You’re not getting saved.”

I felt the ties at my hands give and I grinned. “No, I’m not,” I agreed. “Because I’m saving myself.” In one swift move, I lifted my arms. I had two options, snatching the gun or the syringe.

I took the syringe. And without hesitation, I plunged it into his neck.

He was taken by surprise, obviously not expecting a helpless woman, a junkie at that, to make such a move. He stumbled back, lifting his gun sluggishly.

“Becky, get out of the f*ckin’ way!” Gabriel roared.

Instead, I stepped forward and snatched the gun from his hand, unworried. It came easily as his eyes glazed over with the telltale effect of the high.

I lifted the gun and instead of holding it to his head, I moved downwards and pulled the trigger.

He crumpled to the ground, screaming soundlessly.

Happy that he wouldn’t be causing trouble, I rushed to Gabriel.

“Stop moving,” I snapped. “You’re shot and bleeding.”

I reached around to untie his binds, but they were zip-ties. He got the legit stuff; obviously the dickless dick hadn’t worried about me getting out of mine.

“Knife, in my belt,” he grunted.

I grabbed the dangerous-looking knife and moved to his back.

“Don’t cut yourself,” he warned.

I yanked it through the plastic, freeing his hands. “Yes, because I just overpowered a man who got the best of you but I’ll cut myself on a knife,” I snapped.

The second he was free he surged up, yanking me into his arms. “You okay, baby? You hurt anywhere?” His eyes went up and down my body.

I quirked a brow. “You’re bleeding from a bullet wound. Take that question, flip it, and reverse it.”

His jaw hardened. “I’m fine. It’s a flesh wound.”

“Yes, of course it is.”

“You stole my part,” he said, his eyes light.

“What part was that?”

He clutched my face. “The saving you part,” he murmured.

I smiled against his mouth. “Yeah, well, maybe I can save myself.”

“You can save us both, baby. But before I show you how f*ckin’ hot that is, we’ve got business.”

His eyes went hard, granite, and he stepped back, taking the gun from my hands. He turned to the bleeding lump on the floor and started to circle him.

“You’re going to die. But not yet. Not even in the near future,” he told him. I doubted he could fathom his words as he was not only high but bleeding from a crotch bullet wound. “But it’ll happen. I’ve got a brother who’s so very anxious to meet you.”

“Step away from him and put down the gun, Lucky,” a voice said from the doorway.

Gabriel’s gaze snapped up and he held the gun at the owner of the voice, lowering it immediately when he saw Luke. Or maybe when he saw Rosie standing beside him.

She gave me a grim smile. There was blood staining her white dress.

Not hers.

I paled.

She’d found Scott.

“Can’t do that, Luke,” Gabriel replied easily. “This swine”—he kicked who I deduced was Devlin—“is the reason Skid is dead. The reason Becky almost f*ckin’ died.” His gaze flickered to Rosie, who was reaching into her purse. “Why Rosie was almost blown into a thousand pieces. So I suggest you leave, pretend you didn’t see a thing.”

Luke’s jaw was hard. “My father may do that shit but not me. I can’t turn a blind eye to this.” His gaze flickered, like he was faltering in his resolve, but he didn’t lower his gun. “Don’t make me shoot you.”

I glared at him. “Dude, in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s already been f*cking shot,” I snapped.

Rosie tugged on his shoulder. “Luke, don’t do this. You know what he did. You know he deserves this. Just leave. Let us handle this,” she said in a small voice.

Luke’s gaze didn’t lower, nor did his gun. “I can’t do that, Rosie.” His voice was losing some of its earlier iron, though. “I don’t want to, but I’ll shoot him if I have to. Arrest him.”

Rosie nodded gravely. “Yeah I know,” her voice was sad, resigned.