The atmosphere got dense as cooling tar. Hangarounds scattered, shrieking in fear as they hid behind furniture or fled the room, some without their clothes on. The sheer sense of panic was sour in the air, and Beast’s gums itched for violence.
He ducked and moved behind the sofas, intent on approaching the fucker from the back. The cigarette butts and dirt littering the floor were disgusting against his fingertips, but he progressed toward the enemy as quickly and silently as possible, his head pulsing harder. The longer he took to disarm the fucker, the more dangerous the situation would get. Beast couldn’t have that. Not in his home.
“Come on now, don’t be an idiot,” said Rev, their sergeant-at-arms in a calm, steady voice. His reliable personality was one of the reasons why he played the club lawman, and maybe he would provide enough distraction for Beast to attack the piece of trash from the back.
“Me? You guys are fucking laughable. You don’t even carry your firearms on you?” Gyro hissed with a slur to his voice, and Beast clenched his teeth. At this point during a party, all the club members were too drunk to take out an armed enemy without it being a risk to everyone else, but if Rev kept up the negotiations, the situation could still be diffused. No one needed a dead civilian buried on club grounds, just because he’d had too much speed and considered himself untouchable.
Knight must have noticed what Beast was doing, because after their eyes met for a split second, Knight casually pushed back his long hair and stepped closer to Gyro. Inevitably, Gyro turned the gun at him, but at least it drew attention away from Beast.
“How many bullets do you have in that tiny gun of yours, asshole? How many people can you shoot before someone bashes your brains in?” Knight asked in a low voice.
Not exactly the approach Beast would take when talking to an armed man who was either drunk or on drugs, but it would do as distraction. The moment the fucker opened his mouth, all his attention on Knight, Beast leapt at his legs and cut him down like a tree.
Gyro let out a high-pitched yelp, but as soon as he hit the floor, the gun went off, followed by a rumble.
Beast twisted Gyro’s hand to make him let go of the firearm, then delivered a powerful punch by slamming his elbow into the twisted face. Plaster-smelling dust unexpectedly blew into his face, and the room exploded with loud cries. Beast’s head shot up, and in the pale, powdery cloud he saw a man struggling against a large block lying among scattered pieces of rubble. The subdued light was barely enough to illuminate the ceiling, but with his heart beating furiously Beast noticed a large dent in the sculpted decoration above—the source of the debris that rained to the floor in chunks rather than tiny pieces.
Lizzy, the band’s frontman, jumped off the stage, screaming for someone to call an ambulance for his father, but barely anyone listened in the commotion. More people were fleeing the room now that they weren’t at risk of taking a bullet, and Beast was left calculating if they should all evacuate.
Gyro squirmed under him, trying to free himself out of Beast’s grip. “I’m sorry!” he screamed, now sounding not only regretful but frightened for his life. Too late for that.
Rev, was by Davy’s side, lifting the pieces of wood and brick off alongside Lizzy, Knight, and Joker. “I told you this place isn’t safe! We either actually invest and renovate, or we have to move!” he growled, tossing a large chunk of debris so hard it hit the nearest wall and fell with a dull thud.
Only seconds later Beast realized it was King Rev was arguing with. “It’s only stops being safe when someone shoots at the ceiling, for fuck’s sake!”
“And what, a chunk of the ceiling would fall off in a normal building? Get a cold shower,” hissed Rev, straining his muscles as he and Knight lifted the large piece off Davy, who screamed out as if someone was pulling his nails one by one. Lizzy, who tried to help his father get out from under the heavy slab of brick, was so pale Beast feared he’d faint at any moment.
Pushing Gyro firmer against the ground to keep him still, Beast looked at them, still confused by the choking dust and chaos around him. “What happened?”
King looked to him with a scowl. “The bullet dislodged something in the ceiling—”
Rev butted in with a snarl, spreading his thick arms away from the naked, tattooed chest. “The ceiling is falling apart. Look at this, Davy’s leg is fucked!”
And to make matters worse, only now Beast realized a loud, ferocious barking was resonating from the corridor where Hound, his dog, had been locked away for the night.