Cash had a pool stick against one of the Hell Five member’s throats, lifting him up the wall.
Kye put a guy head first on the bar and slid him down, knocking over all the drinks. At the end of the bar, he threw his arms and the guy went off the bar and into the kitchen door. The door swung open and then shut, smacking the guy in the head.
Trent had two guys working him pretty good.
I hung back, knowing Trent would figure it out.
I saw the barkeep going for the gun. He probably had plenty of ammo under the bar.
I quickly took out my gun and shot, hitting him in the shoulder. He flew back into the wall of booze, clearing half a shelf.
That’s when all the fighting stopped.
Trent broke away from the two guys he was tangling with. Then in typical Trent fashion he threw a right hook at the guy on the left and a left hook at the guy on the right.
Then he turned and grabbed two guns off the floor.
Shit, we had done good. We disarmed the Hell Five guys that were there and fucked up the bar.
“Clear the register,” I said to the barkeep.
“Fuck you,” he yelled. “Call Carlo!”
I shot, breaking a bottle right over his head.
That was my version of a warning.
Trent had another.
Trent jumped over the bar, grabbed the old barkeep, and tossed him right back over it. The barkeep crashed into barstools and hit the floor hard. I stepped up to him and put my boot right on his back.
“You fuckers are dead!” one of the Hell Five guys yelled.
I looked to Cash and nodded.
Cash grabbed a pool ball and tossed it into the air. “Corner pocket… no, wait… eye socket!”
He laughed and smashed the pool ball against the guy’s eye. Over and over and over, putting the guy to his back.
When the other guys moved, we turned our weapons to them.
They were fucking helpless.
Trent opened the register and cleaned out the cash.
“Where’s the safe?” I asked the barkeep.
“Fuck you,” he yelled again.
I pressed the front of my boot right to the base of his skull. It was an instant pain pressure point that made you feel like you were suffocating and about to throw up.
He groaned and tapped a hand on the floor.
I let up.
“Try again,” I said.
“In the fucking back.”
Trent hopped the bar and we got the barkeep to his feet. The old bastard had pissed himself on the floor.
“If you lie, Trent is going to kill you,” I said.
“Let’s go,” Trent yelled.
They returned a minute later, Trent with a handful of cash and a handful of the barkeep’s shirt. Trent tossed the guy aside like a toy and made way for the door.
“Wait!” Cash yelled. “It’s… too clean in here.”
We all then unloaded our weapons. Breaking bottles, shooting the bar, the pool tables, the neon lights in the windows and the ones hanging from the ceiling. We reloaded, all nodded in unison, and left the bar.
There we were, just a bunch of crazy outlaws, tearing up a bar, stealing all their cash, and riding away unscathed.
I had to admit… it felt fucking good to do.
Shit, being in that bar, fighting, shooting, and stealing, it was the only time that day I didn’t think about Belle.
**
“Seventy-five-hundred,” Trev said and clapped his hands together.
“I didn’t expect that,” Jasper said.
The cash was spread out across the table.
“What do we do with it?” Max asked. “Call Ivan?”
“Fuck that,” I said.
“We’re not calling Ivan until we have the sixty-five,” Trev said.
“At least we have a start,” Cash said.
“This is not for Ivan,” Trev said.
He then went to divide the cash up between all of us. He did so with a sick smile on his face.
“What are you doing, Prez?” Trent asked.
“Enjoying the fucking outlaw life,” he said.
“Christ,” Jasper said.
“Hey,” Trev said. “This is for us. My share is going to Duke for taking that bullet. I’m going to go check on my very pregnant old lady, try to fuck that baby out of her, and then I’m going to call Carlo and see what he wants to do next. I’m guessing those slimy Hell Five fucks are all over that bar.”
“Do we need protection here?” Hudson asked.
“Favors have been called in,” Jasper said.
I didn’t bother asking what that meant. I just listened to the words being slung around the table. Hell Five started this little spat and we just dumped gas on the fire. That was okay though. It was needed.
Ivan wanted his money back, with blood, and he’d get it. This was about earning trust with the Russians and about showing power with our enemies.
Trev ended the meeting and asked to see me privately.
He kicked out Jasper’s seat and told me to sit.
“That’s for the VP,” I said.
“So much respect,” he said and grinned.
“I’ll stand, Prez.”
“How you feeling today?”
“I feel fine.”
“You’ve been raising some kind of hell around here since that night you tried to slit Cash’s throat. Still don’t want to talk about it?”
“Nothing to talk about, Prez.”
“You gonna ease up on the clubhouse?”