Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(50)

The armored truck catches my attention pulling into the parking lot of the casino, and turns to the point of pickup.

“Right on time,” I say out loud, my palms twitching for the excitement ahead.

My phone rings, catching my attention.

“I’m in. Where do you want us?” Felix informs. Relief floods me that he has my back. I need him, and I don’t say that about many people in my life.

“When the sedan leaves, follow it.”

“Got it.”

The armored truck pulls out of the lot first, heading left as the sleek looking sedan turns right.

“You were right,” Lip sounds shocked. Scowling, I glance at him. Did he think I was lying?

Putting the SUV in drive, Lip follows the sedan. We stay back about a half mile making sure not to be seen. Motorcycles zip beside us. Looking out the window, I find my boys. Machete smiling and flipping me off.

“Yours?” Lip questions.

“Yeah, they’d be mine.”

The sedan pulls onto a side road that leads to the freeway. The hairs on the back of my neck raise. Nobody to see the altercation go down, it’s now or never.

“Now.” The words come out husky, and my eyes hood as I cock my gun.

Rolling down my window, I pull my gun out and aim it at the right back tire. Pulling the trigger, a bullet bites into the rubber, making the tire blow. The car slows, and a man with a black hat sticks his head out the window, blowing his hat right off. Tugging himself fully out of the window, he pulls out a Colt AR 15.

“Oh f*ck!” I holler, darting back into the car.

Bullets spray across the windshield, tearing into the seats and headliner. Chunks of glass spraying back toward my arms and face. Rage, pure sweet f*cking rage races through my limbs as I duck for cover.

“Jesus Christ!” Lip shouts and hunches under the steering wheel. He peers up over the wheel, and slams on the accelerator as we race forward.

“I’m going to f*cking kill every one of them!” I holler above the chaos, pulling my .45 from my holster.

“Hold on!” Lip instructs.

Ignoring him I aim at the car just as Lip clips the back bumper of the sedan. I’m thrown forward, my head connecting with part of the windshield, and my shoulder hitting the dash. The man with the Colt AR 15 is nearly thrown from the window, as the car spins out of control before coming to an abrupt stop.

“What the f*ck?!” I yell. My forehead stings and my shoulder burns. Pressing my fingers to my hairline I find blood. Not a lot, but enough for me to glare at Lip.

“What? I said hold on.”

The Devil’s Dust and the Outlaws circle the car, weapons aimed as they get off their bikes. It looks like a f*cking SWAT team, but it’s worse, it’s criminals without law.

Stepping out of the car, I pull both my guns out and aim them at the passenger door. The men begin to emerge from the car, guns in hand and every single man standing with leather on their backs open fire.

Not giving them a chance to return fire, we riddle their bodies with bullets.

They fall to the desert floor, blood seeping through their clothes, the black sedan sporting bullet holes from one end to the other.

“Jesus Christ, that was awesome!” Machete yells, slapping me on the back in excitement.

“You didn’t have a f*cking Colt AR 15 shooting at you!” I respond wide-eyed, not sure where the excitement was in that. He pats my shoulder and jogs toward the end of the car. He’s f*cking nuts.

We head toward the sedan and Bobby pops the trunk.

Bull whistles eyeing the goods. Stepping around the back of the car I see what has him in awe. There are at least thirteen duffle bags sitting in the trunk.

Machete unzips one and fingers the cash. “Jesus,” he whispers.

“You weren’t lying.” Bull rubs his temple with his gun.

Grabbing one of the duffle bags I haul it from the trunk and push it into Bull’s chest. “You got your money, now we get my woman.”

“Bobby, empty these bags, and stuff them,” Bull orders.

“With what?” Bobby looks at him quizzically.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Oh, what about Monopoly money?” His eyes go bright, and I can’t help but scoff.

“Don’t do that,” Shadow laughs half serious.

“I’d love to see their reaction though,” Bobby chuckles.

“They won’t have time to react before they’re dead,” Bull informs casually. I like the way this man thinks. “We will get these filled to look like they’re packing the green, and then we’ll set up a drop. When Frank’s men leave for the pickup, you attack him.”

“He won’t be protected, I like it.” Felix nods approvingly, standing by my side.

“Call him, set the drop,” Bull insists.



Jillian



SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN MY BACK, my stomach growling with the need to eat. I’m so tired, mentally and physically.

“Zeek just called,” Frank states, walking into the room. “Just set up the drop, send our men and pick it up.”

Cross snorts. “I’ll send the boys to make sure they give us everything.”

“Send them all, I don’t want any surprises,” Frank insists.

“You, however, I’m going to have to set an example for my nephew, and that involves you I’m afraid. When he arrives, I’m going to take your life. I’m going to squeeze every single ounce of air out of your lungs until your heart slows down and your body begs for it. Then, and only then, when he realizes I am who controls his very existence will I end your filthy f*cking life and that pig you’re carrying.”