I identified the gunslinger as the dirty, stringy-haired blond on the receiving end of Shark’s fist. Shark had knocked the gun from the man’s hand after he’d raised it to Shark’s face, intending to kill him.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
I jumped at the sound of each shot fired. The loud series of gun blasts had ceased all activity. Fists froze mid-punch, wide-eyed glares darted from every direction, and bodies remained in place. Pieces of the ceiling tile crumbled to the floor because of the impact of bullets. The same stringy-haired blond who’d lost his first weapon to me had a backup and hadn’t hesitated to open fire inside the club.
“I came here to broker a deal with you, Shark, but now I’m going to blow some fucking brains out and be done with it. You wild animals don’t know nothing but violence.” Although the man talked to Shark, his weapon was trained on another one of Shark’s men.
Thoroughly confused, I watched the scene unfold. If his intent was to kill Shark, why would this man come to Shark’s club with only a few men? Were there others from his crew outside? Had these men come willingly, to go out in a blaze of glory? Was this the biker way?
Shark’s glare was so menacing that it chilled me, and I only saw his profile.
“Did you think you could sneak in here with three men, snuff me out, and not be dealt with? I hope you have backup coming, Scud, because you’re about out of time,” Shark stated before he took a step closer to the man. The man’s gun remained pointed at the head of one of Shark’s men.
“If I had a gun in my hand, you would be dead, and this meaningless conversation wouldn’t be taking place.” Shark continued talking as he crept closer to the gun wielder.
The man known as Scud tightened his grip on his backup weapon and kept the aim steady. “Keep talking, Shark, and I will splatter your brother’s brains all over this dirty-ass floor.”
The man snickered at Shark. He knew that it would hurt Shark more if he killed his brother in front of him. He also had the most power in the room because he was the only one with a gun. The scene had me baffled with my neck on a constant swivel. I was under the impression that bikers of this sort were always packing, but I thought I recalled hearing something about guns not being allowed in the clubhouse.
From what I could gather, the three men with the purple shirts under their vests knew or had found out about the no-gun rule and had made a fool-hearted attempt to sneak into the clubhouse to cut a deal or assassinate Shark. I didn’t know what their true intent was, but it appeared they hadn’t put together a well-thought-out plan.
Scud, the would-be assassin, yelled his request at Shark, “Release my men, Shark, or watch your brother die.”
One of Scud’s men’s face’s kissed broken glass atop the bar as he was being held down by two August Knights. Another of Scud’s men attempted to uselessly squirm his way out of a strong chokehold being applied by an August Knight that appeared to be a descendant of giants.
Shark shook his head, letting Scud know that he had no intention of letting his men go. The next ten seconds happened in a blur. The metallic click of the Scud’s weapon drew every eye in the room in his direction. Shark’s brother simply shut his eyes under the weight of impending death.
There was only one person in the room that wasn’t looking at Scud.
Shark glanced at me instead. His gaze went directly to the gun hanging forgotten in my hand. When Shark’s gaze locked with mine, he inclined his head once. I honestly don’t know how I knew what he wanted, but I did. Shark wanted me to lift that weapon and shoot Scud.
On one hand, I couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, especially since I didn’t know the full story of why or how he and Shark’s crew had gotten to this point. On the other hand, shooting this man could possibly win me some favor with the MC.
Bam!
The oily scent of gun smoke made my nostrils flare just as the man in my sight went flying backward. The height of the bar hid Scud’s fallen body from my view. I’d aimed for his shoulder and prayed I hadn’t hit him in the chest. I didn’t want to kill him, but I didn’t feel bad about shooting him either. I was surrounded by criminals, so it wasn’t like I’d shot an innocent victim.
I know, my damn mind was twisted, a fucked-up freeway of illogical thoughts. But, in my defense, the man had come and threatened to kill Shark who was technically my boss. An August Knight near the fallen Scud held up the second weapon Scud had lost when I’d shot him.
As my conscience sought to make an appearance, Scud’s bloody hand gripped the counter, and he lugged his body up before staggering forward, clutching his shoulder. His loud grunts didn’t garner any sympathy from this crowd.
Shark’s gaze met mine before he raised his splayed fingers. I tossed him the weapon that was still warm from the shot I’d fired. I was in such a state of astonishment that none of my actions seemed to be registering with my brain. It was like I’d put myself on autopilot. Had I really just shot a man for an MC that I’d only worked a day and a half for?
As soon as the weapon I had just tossed hit Shark’s hand, he didn’t hesitate to use it.
Bam! Bam!
Scud went down in a dramatic display of sharp jerks and anguished twitches. Based on the spray of blood from his head and the hole that Shark had put in his chest, I was certain that Scud wasn’t getting back up this time. Shark tossed the weapon to his brother, the one that Scud had held at gunpoint.
“Take them out back,” Shark commanded. The finality and authority in his voice weren’t lost on me.
As I observed, I filled in the blanks. Taking the men in the purple shirts out back must have meant taking them out to execute them. Scud’s men were forced out of the front door by August Knights. Without being told, two of Shark’s men grabbed Scud’s limp arms and feet, dragging his lifeless body, and followed the group to wherever out back led to.
I stood in place, not moving, until I glanced up into Shark’s pleased face. I’d been so busy watching the scene unfold that I hadn’t noticed that Shark had inched his way into my personal space.
“You did good,” he complimented. “Are we going to have a problem with you keeping any of what you just witnessed to yourself?”
His firm stance and set jaw explained what his words couldn’t. Was he asking if I’d rat them out? I’d shot someone at his command, and that wasn’t enough to convince him that I was as crazy as they were?