“Don’t do it, man,” I warn Bull.
“Why? Why should we go into business with you?” Bull asks Zeek.
“You mean besides getting your bitch back?” Zeek laughs, and the rest of his men chuckle. “‘Cause I got the best shit on the West Coast, and,” he looks at me, “my uncle will not give up until he gets Phillip in our pockets one way or another. He’s blood. He’ll either accept that, or be buried for his betrayal of the DeLuca name,” Zeek threatens.
“Don’t be stupid, man,” Bobby whispers into my ear.
“No! Deal!” I holler. “Your idea of family is not ours. You keep your shitty drugs and the DeLuca’s toxic DNA on your side of the West Coast.” I curl my lip in anger.
Zeek snaps his fingers and the crowd breaks. I see red hair flinging back and forth as two men push and shove Cherry through the group of men.
“I killed our father, my own flesh and blood. The man who brought me into this world. Don’t think I won’t kill your bitch—or you, for that matter.” My eyes widen, and my hand grips my gun harder. I never knew he had anything to do with Dad’s death. I’m shocked; I thought Zeek was dad’s favorite. Goes to show how loyal the DeLuca name really is, and that strengthens my belief to stay the fuck away from it.
Zeek snaps his fingers again and points to the ground in front of him. A guy kicks Cherry hard, making her fall to her knees and land right in front of Zeek. I step forward, wanting to save her, but the click of Zeek’s gun stops me.
“Not so fast, brother,” Zeek warns. Looking at Cherry, she has streaks of tears marking her dirty face. Her knees are bleeding, and the stitches on her face look to be torn and bleeding, as well. I lift my gaze from Cherry to Zeek. My chest constricts seeing her in such distress, and my hands fist at my side. An urge to hold her and tuck her hair behind her ear surges through me. I love Cherry, no doubt about it. I’ve never cared so much about another person in my whole life. Zeek is a dumb motherfucker for touching her.
“You’ll pay for this,” I growl.
“One last time: you in, or out?” Zeek questions.
“I will never go into business with you, Zeek. Get that through your head now. I won’t put my family in danger because of our uncle’s power trip,” I reaffirm. He takes his aim from me to Cherry, and I react. I jump forward, throwing Cherry out of the way just as a bullet leaves Zeek’s gun. Cherry screams as we fall to the ground hard, and my right shoulder burns with such intensity my eyes water.
“Bobby, get Cherry!” I scream, rolling over to aim my pistol at Zeek’s arm. His eyes widen, and I pull the trigger. His body jolts backward and he falls to the ground. His men scatter, and Cherry is yanked from under me.
“Just me,” Bobby mutters, dragging Cherry to safety.
Rising to my feet, I run behind a green trashcan. My shoulder screams with pain; looking at it, I find blood oozing from it, trickling down my back. I’ve been shot. Better me than Cherry, though.
I peek around the trash can and a bullet goes zipping past me.
“Shit,” I curse, jumping back behind the dumpster.
Aiming my weapon first, I look around the trash can again and spot Zeek beside the building, aiming his weapon at me. Seems that bullet in his shoulder didn’t slow him down. I fire, and a bullet zings as it ricochets off the building.
“You done yet?” I holler.
“Not even close!” Zeek shouts, firing his weapon. Looking over, I find Bull firing his gun at men above me and Bobby holding Cherry behind the bikes.
Enough of this back-and-forth bullshit. I take a deep breath, glance at Cherry one last time and step out from behind the can. I spot Zeek instantly and fire my gun. I fire and fire until I run out of bullets, spraying and praying one hits Zeek’s worthless ass.
He shouts with distress and falls back. I smirk, knowing at least one hit him. His men catch him, and silence fills the air. A loud girlie scream sounds near Zeek, and fear hits my chest that they have Cherry. Checking my guys, I see Cherry is still with them, so I look back at Zeek and that’s when I see Dolly crying over him. That fucking betraying bitch.
Knowing his men will retaliate, and I’m out of bullets, I turn and run back toward the bikes with the rest of the Devil’s Dust.
I slide in behind Tom Cat’s bike, and he helps pull me behind it.
“I got ya, brother,” Tom Cat states, standing up to walk in the line of fire. I grab his pants leg, stopping him.
“Don’t; he’s got more men than we do,” I add.
Tom shakes my hand off his leg.
“He disrespected ours. He needs to pay, or the rest of the West Coast will think they can walk on us,” he explains, and walks off.
“Fuck!” I yell.
“Here.” Bull hands me a gun and I cock it, loading a bullet into the chamber.