Hell on Wheels (Black Knights Inc. #1)(82)
Mystery Man?
“What the…?”
He didn’t get a chance to finish the question before Mystery Man was discharging his weapon, ducking down behind the building’s rooftop air-conditioning unit when he was met with rapid return fire.
Then the bullets suddenly stopped flying. In the aftermath, the silence in the street was thick and heavy as Phantom’s chassis. The quiet tick-tick-tick of motorcycle’s stalled engine almost obscenely loud in comparison.
Nate was scouring the opposite rooftop for another glimpse of Mystery Man when a muffled cry had him turning in time to see the men of Black Knights Inc. barreling toward them, loaded for bear, weapons held at the ready.
And then—
“Oh my God!” Ali whispered, her eyes wide with horror as she glanced through the partially opened wrought-iron gate into the compound beyond. “Is that Patti?”
“No,” he groaned, his chest squeezing so tight it was a wonder he was able to draw breath. “Sweet Christ, no!”
But no amount of denial would change the fact that Patti lay sprawled on the pavement not six feet from the gate, the dark pool of blood beneath her slowly spreading out to form a macabre circle. A bunch of…
Lord, it looked like she’d been carrying a tray of chocolate chip cookies when she’d been cut down. They were strewn about her body like some sort of horrific confetti.
One minute Dan was kneeling beside his wife, the next he was barreling toward the barely open gate, screaming like a berserker. He frantically wiggled and squirmed and finally squeezed himself between the two halves, only to break into a madcap dash, muscular arms pumping, big thighs churning and then he—
Holy shit!
He slammed himself into Mystery Man, who was clamoring down the bagel shop’s fire escape. The kinetic force of Dan’s one hundred ninety-five pound body sent both men flying, rolling, weapons lost and forgotten in the battle for supremacy. And then, in the blink of an eye, Dan was on top, sitting on Mr. Mystery’s chest and pummeling the guy’s face with both fists.
“Dan!” Nate yelled, scrambling over to the grappling men. “He’s not the one!”
But Dan couldn’t hear him. In his rage and grief, Dan was deranged and deaf to everything but the awful urge for vengeance.
Nate hooked his arms around Dan’s chest, taking a hard elbow to the ear that nearly knocked him senseless, and hauled the screaming, sobbing Dan up and off Mystery Man. No easy task even though Nate outweighed Dan by a good twenty pounds, because Dan had uncontrollable fury racing like fire through his veins, giving him the strength of about ten men.
“He’s not the one!” Nate roared straight into Dan’s ear, struggling with everything he had to hold on to kicking, hissing sonofabitch. “He’s not the one who shot Patti!”
“You stupid f*ck!” Mystery Man yelled and oh, great, that’s just what Nate didn’t need as Dan suddenly stilled. He could feel Dan’s whole body coil, and he tightened his grip, waiting for Dan to try to explode out of his hold. Only that’s not what happened. The stupid f*ck—yep, at least Mystery Man had that part right—snapped his head back, slamming Nate’s nose so hard bright yellow stars danced cheerfully in front of his vision. He lost his grip as hot blood poured down over his mouth and chin.
Dan took advantage of his momentary shock to ram into Mystery Man just as the guy was pushing himself to his feet. They hit the pavement with a sickening thud, Dan retaining his superior position. Only this time Dan wasn’t punching Mr. Mystery. Oh, no. This time he wrapped is hands around guy’s throat and squeezed so hard the tendons in his forearms stood out like garden hoses.
“He’s…get…ting…a…way,” Mystery Man choked, his face turning crimson as his eyes began to bulge out of their sockets.
Dan couldn’t hear the guy above his own horrible choking sobs, nor could he see Mystery Man struggling to speak through the tears and snot running in a terrible mess down his contorted face.
“Dan,” Nate ignored the blood flowing into his mouth as he squatted beside the two men. “You’ve gotta listen to me now, buddy. This guy didn’t shoot Patti. He was helpin’ us,” Nate glanced down at Mystery Man to see the guy’s eyes start to roll back in his head. “Let go, now.” He placed a heavy hand on Dan’s shoulder. The guy was shaking so hard Nate thought he might just rattle his bones to dust.
Then Dan sucked in a tortured breath and met Nate’s eyes, clarity slowly returning through the haze of temporary madness.
“Let go,” he repeated. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Dan glanced down at Mystery Man, whose fingers were clawing at his wrists, leaving deep, bloody furrows.
“You hear me talkin’ to you, soldier?” Nate yelled, shaking Dan’s shoulder, because he had to get through now, like, right now or Mystery Man was toast. “You’re killin’ an innocent man!”
Dan suddenly unclenched his hands, rolling off Mystery Man to scramble to his feet. He stumbled back over to his dead wife, hoarsely wailing his agony the entire way.
Jesus. Jesus.
Nate blew out a ragged breath and wiped the back of his arm over his mouth and chin. Mystery Man was lying in the middle of the street, sucking in great gulping lungfuls of sweet, life-giving O2.
Well, at least Nate’d been able to save one life today.