Chapter Four
The Woods
Twenty Miles
From NOLA
I t had been a silent ride into the woods. Neither man spoke, and there were a few reasons. Mostly, Gamble was freaked out that something he’d done was going to cost Poe his life.
This had to be about him.
Another thing he was worried about was keeping the man’s body safe. He was sitting in front of him, and pressed to his chest. Since he was smaller than Gamble, he was able to block him with his body.
And be up against him.
Oh, and it was torture.
The whole trek, Gamble was focused on keeping them safe. Now, he was listening to the sounds around them, hoping to hear Rufus barking.
Only, there was nothing.
He wasn’t sure if it was because they were so far away from the farm, or because the mercenaries were going stealth and tracking them.
That would be a problem.
There were at least ten of them, and only Gamble to keep Poe safe.
The odds were not in his favor.
Speaking of Poe…
Every now and then, his hand would go to Gamble’s thigh, and he’d get shockwaves through his whole body.
It was difficult not to be acutely aware of the man pressed to the front of his body. His one arm was around Poe’s waist, as his hand was holding onto Diablo’s mane.
It was distracting, to say the least, since he could smell his aftershave, mingling with his scent.
Damn it.
He smelled good.
When Poe broke the silence, Gamble blinked, pulled from his thoughts.
“Why are they trying to kill us?” Poe finally asked. “What did we do?”
He’d been sitting there twenty minutes against Gamble, and he was going insane. The feel of his body against his, and how he tightly held him to him, like he wasn’t willing to let go…
It made it difficult to do anything.
The man felt so damn good.
For the last month, Poe had purposely put space between them, and was careful not to touch him. He didn’t want to exacerbate that need between them.
Now, he was up close and personal with the man’s body, and he was enjoying it way too much.
Poe felt…safe.
That was crazy since they had been shot at leaving the field.
If he stayed against him much longer, he was going to go insane.
The bottom line was that Poe was protecting Gamble. He wanted the man to be able to leave and have a life, and making little connections might destroy that. He was pretty sure Gamble bonded to him, and that was it.
Hyper-masculine men like Gamble didn’t get all hot and bothered by studious doctors like him.
On top of that, Gamble had been straight, and now, he was sure that once he was gone, back in his life, he’d be a distant memory.
It hurt, but it wasn’t Gamble’s fault he’d imprinted with him. He’d helped save his life.
The last thing he would ever want was to make the man give up any chances of going back to his life.
He was doing this for Gamble.
God.
If only he wasn’t still thinking about that kiss by the pond.
But he was.
His nightly dreams played off of that, and now, to have one arm around him, as they moved through the trees, he was struggling.
BIG.
TIME.
Every now and again, he caught himself putting his hand on Gamble’s thigh, and it freaked him out.
He was touching a patient.
Again.
Gamble’s lips were by Poe’s ear, so he could keep his voice low.
“I don’t know, Doctor,” he admitted. “You’ve seen my military file. It’s filled with reasons why someone would want to kill me. Pick one. Take a stab at it.”
There was tension in his voice. It felt like a slap at Poe, and he didn’t want to make him angry or stressed. They were already in a bad situation.
“I’m sorry, Gamble. I won’t ask any more questions that bother you,” Poe said, shutting up.
Yep.
His lips were sealed.
As soon as he snapped at him, he felt bad. Gamble realized he was angry at the wrong person. Ironically, he was lashing out at the man who saved him from the anger last time.
Who would save him this time if something happened to Poe?
He’d never forgive himself.
EVER.
For Gamble, it was like his innocent child being killed because of him. Again, he wanted to backslide there, but he had to worry about keeping them safe.
He was their only chance at survival.
“I’m sorry, Poe,” he said. “I’m irritated that my past might have just put you in danger. I’m pissed that you might get hurt because of me, and that takes me back to when Storm killed my child—because of me.”
Poe relaxed.
Okay, Gamble was still in control, and he didn’t hate his guts.
“It’s okay. We’re in it together,” he said. “What can I do to help?”
What he wanted to say was ‘don’t lean against me because my body wants yours and you’re making me insane’ but he didn’t think this was the time or the place.
The doctor had drawn the line, and tried to avoid touching him as much as possible. This had to be annoying him too.
“For now, nothing. We’re going to have to get off Diablo soon, and move on foot. What I really need is for you to think. Have you explored these woods?” he asked, desperately trying to focus.
He considered it.
Poe rode the horses a lot, but they were on a trail he didn’t really recognize. In fact, he couldn’t even tell what direction they were heading in.
He was lost.
“I mean, I did a little. I know the basic layout. What do you want to know?” he asked, as the man’s arm tightened down against his abs, and he felt like he was being pulled harder against him.
And he liked it.
God.
He really, really liked it.
Only, he was worried about Gamble and for a lot of reasons.
His mental health.
His well-being.
And that he wanted him.
“Why are you tense?” Poe asked. “It’s more than just the shooting at us. I’ve read your file. The military said you stay calm under extreme pressure. So what’s bothering you? Talk it out. It might help.”
Gamble didn’t hesitate.
Why would he?
This man knew everything about him. He’d been eyeballs deep in his military file, and saw all of his missions, information, and backstory.
“I wish I went home a month ago,” he admitted. “Then, you’d be safe. I don’t want to think about you getting hurt. That’s what has me tense,” he admitted.
Well, and the scent of his skin and cologne.
“We’ll be fine,” Poe admitted, not sure if he believed that or not. He was having little sexy fantasies about the man, and if he went there…
This could hurt Gamble—not to mention his career.
Instead, Poe patted his thigh that was beside his, and the muscle rippled beneath his hand.
Jesus.
Someone’s body had healed and was back to being strong again.
And against his.
This was the best and worst place for Poe to be.
Clearly.
“I’m just concerned,” Gamble said again, and again, Poe tried to reassure him.
“I won’t get hurt,” he offered. “How about we figure out how to get the hell out of this and go from there?” he asked.
That they could do.
“How big is the Native land?” he asked, calculating how much time it would take to get through it on foot. If they made good time, they might be able to get to a phone.
That was his plan, until Poe answered him.
“I believe the reservation is about twenty miles wide for most of it.”
Well, shit.
That wasn’t happening.
Gamble knew what he needed to do. Honestly, he had very little choice. There was no way they’d outtravel the men. He fully expected them to show up with quads and begin tracking them.
Time was running out.
They needed to get somewhere safe.
“We need to send Diablo to the orchard where the other horses are, and then we’re going to have to be on foot for the rest of the time. We need to find a place to rest for a while.”
The man was curious.
“Why?” he asked. “We could make it to Native land on Diablo. He can do twenty miles with both of us on him.”
There was one reason.
“Because I have to go back to the house when it gets dark,” he stated.
That caught the man off-guard.
Poe gasped.
“Wait. What?” he asked. “You’re going to head back there?” he asked. “Where the men with guns are?”
He nodded.
It sounded crazy, but he had a good reason.
“Yes, I need to do that so I can figure out who we’re up against, and we need provisions. I can keep us alive in the woods for weeks,” he admitted. “I can play hide-and-seek with them and win, but I can’t do that without the basics. Plus, we left Rufus behind. I have to go back for our dog.”
Poe wasn’t shocked at his words.
He was a little shocked at the fact that he’d called Rufus ‘our’ dog.
As for his survival and heading back…
Poe was well aware of what was in Gamble’s military folder. Gamble had gone into countries and crept around for the CIA all of the time.
This would be the same thing.
No shock there.
What did confuse the hell out of him was that he’d go back for Rufus. The dog was more than likely going to be fine.
Who hurt dogs?
Or horses?
“Why the dog?” Poe asked.
For Gamble, that was easy. Maybe it was sentimental, or the fact that he’d been a Marine and they left no one behind.
“Because you gave him to me. He’s my dog,” he said. “I’m a Marine, and loyalty matters. If they haven’t killed him already, they will. If they did kill him, I’m going to do some damage.”
Poe wasn’t surprised by that either. Gamble was loyal to a fault, and he was a good person. He’d learned plenty about him over the almost three months they had been together.
As patient and doctor.
“Okay,” he said, not sure how he could argue that.
Was it dangerous?
Yes.
Did he believe Gamble could do it?
Yes.
“If that’s what you think is best, Gamble, I understand,” he stated.
What did he know?
The only time he hid from anyone was when he and Hemmingway played hide-and-seek as children at their family estate.
“So we’ll get off on foot, and I’ll get us situated. I have to find us a place we can camp and not be seen. It has to be somewhere they won’t find us, and then, tonight, when it’s dark, I’ll head back and do some recon.”
Yeah, Poe didn’t like that.
Not.
At.
All.
Oh, not the part where Gamble did recon. That was the most Marine thing about him. He didn’t like that it meant he’d be alone in the dark, without Gamble around him.
That wouldn’t be fun.
Gamble felt the tension in his body, and he tried to reassure the man.
“Don’t worry, Poe,” he began. “I have a lighter,” Gamble said. “So I’ll be able to get us a fire. I’ll either catch or find food for us. It won’t be as good as your cooking, but it’ll be food.”
Instead of being absolutely terrified, Poe was feeling all kinds of other things.
Like what?
Why did this turn him on?
Why was the idea of this man taking care of him and protecting him as they were being hunted down make his libido go haywire?
Oh, he knew.
Poe needed to see a shrink of his own.
Seeing this man in his element, wild, protective, and feral…
Shit.
It almost made him forget they were being tracked for some crazy-ass reason.
They rode for a few more minutes, and Poe was trying to enjoy the feel of the man against him. He was going to be walking shortly, and this was likely the last time he’d be pressed to the front of Gamble.
When they came to a creek, Gamble stopped Diablo with his heels.
“Woah, Diablo,” he said, tugging on his mane.
Like always, the horse listened to his person. He obediently came to a stop.
“Time to get off,” he stated.
When he dropped off of the stallion’s back, he reached up and grabbed Poe by the waist and lowered him down to his feet. As he slid down his body, Gamble stared into his eyes.
For a minute, Poe expected him to kiss him, and he wanted that.
Maybe it was the adrenaline.
Maybe it was the hotness factor.
Maybe he was plain insane.
Either way, someone was caught up in the heat of the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Gamble finally said. “This is my fault. I don’t know how to apologize for this,” he began, but was cut off.
Poe did something so incredibly stupid.
He kissed him.
The doctor went up on his toes, found the man’s mouth, and sank into one hell of a kiss.
After weeks of fighting that pull to Gamble, he knew he was three days past screwed, and went with it.
As soon as he found his mouth, it caught Gamble off-guard.
Oh, but he recovered quickly.
DAMN.
FAST.
His hand went to the back of Poe’s head, and he took over that heated kiss.
Holy shit.
Now, Gamble wasn’t thinking about anything but that mating of mouths.
It was hot, wet, and woke up that need in him. It was that lust that he’d once felt for Storm, but she’d killed.
Well, Poe grew it back with gentleness, love, and trust. He was the gardener of that trust, and now, Gamble only wanted to share that moment with him.
As Gamble began controlling the kiss, Poe’s hands went around his waist, and he did battle with the man in the hottest of lip locks.
That need whipped through him, and he went with it because he needed that connection to Gamble.
Someone had been shooting at them.
They were being hunted.
Truth be told, Poe might never get another chance.
If he was going to die, he needed this man to know that he didn’t blame him.
Not.
One.
Bit.
Time seemed to stop, and it was when Diablo got bitchy, and wasn’t getting any attention from Gamble that he made a noise.
That did it.
That broke the spell.
Slowly, Poe broke the kiss, and it was regretfully done. The last thing he wanted was to stop. In fact, he could have stood there and kissed him for hours.
The man had one hell of a mouth on him.
But he had to.
Poe had to put on the brakes.
As he did, Gamble blinked, and his bi-colored eyes refocused on him.
“Poe,” he said, softly.
The man went there.
“This is not your fault. We’re in it together, and we’ll get out of it together. I trust you, Gamble. I’ve read your file. I know what kind of soldier you are. I’m not afraid because I know you’ll keep us safe.”
That belief in him did miracles for his confidence, and his libido. That wasn’t a friendly kiss. Gamble was willing to bet that he didn’t go around kissing his friends like that.
That was passion.
That was lust.
That was need.
Apparently, the doctor had been holding back the last few weeks, but now, Gamble knew what was brewing inside Poe.
The same heat that was inside of him.
Because of his words, he reassured him.
“I’ll get us out of this,” he promised. “You’re not dying, Poe. I promise that I’ll keep you safe.”
Oh, and he would.
He’d been off-guard once with Storm, but he wouldn’t be with Poe. He’d hover, he’d take care of him, and he’d do anything to ensure this man was safe.
Even if he wasn’t his.
Yes, he wanted him, but he knew this man would never find anything of value in him. Gamble was a shattered, shell of a human being.
He couldn’t get that lucky.
For now, though, it looked as if they had a little adventure to handle together.
Gamble palmed Poe’s cheek.
“I swear on my life.”
Poe believed him.
Because they had to keep moving, Gamble headed to the front of his horse.
He faced the big, beast of a horse. He stared into his eyes, and he touched his forehead with nothing but love and tenderness.
It was almost how he’d touched Poe’s cheek, and the man knew it.
That made it even more special for Poe. This man loved Diablo.
“I need you to go find Honey, and stay in the orchard where you’ll be safe. Go have some apples and keep the other horses safe,” he said.
The minute he did, the horse’s ears perked up, and he whinnied.
Someone was a whore for apples. There was no doubt he’d listen and find more than he knew what to do with too.
“GO,” Gamble said, slapping him on the hind quarter, to get him to move.
The horse took off, instinctually knowing where to go. Now, anyone tracking them on horseback would be led away from their direction.
That was the other reason they parted ways.
To keep track of the space, Gamble pulled out a knife and went to the tree to mark it.
“Uh, where did you get a knife?” Poe asked, pretty damn sure he knew the answer to that.
Gamble had sticky fingers. He’d locked up anything that could hurt the man, but he’d been lax over the last month, when he saw he was no longer a danger to himself.
The man laughed.
“Well, despite you trying not to let me have anything sharp and pointy, I manage to find things that are sharp and pointy,” he stated, marking the tree with a symbol.
Poe wasn’t surprised.
He was infinitely thankful that Gamble was good at working around the rules. That might just save them.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the symbol.
Gamble explained.
“That’s code so if The Hunters do try to find me, Remington will be able to track me. He was CIA. He uses his own language in symbols.”
Oh, well, that was good to know.
Gamble continued.
“It’ll also help me find our way out of there. Twenty miles of woods is a lot of space to cross when the surroundings look the same.”
Yeah, it was.
With the canopy so high, he couldn’t see where the sun was, so that meant retracing his footsteps in the dark.
It wasn’t going to be fun.
That was for damn sure.
“Okay, Doctor, let’s get moving,” he said, pulling off his flannel. “Put this on for me.”
Poe was confused as to why the man would want him wearing his shirt.
Oh, don’t get him wrong, he’d love to wear his things, especially after rolling out of bed together, but Poe didn’t expect that to ever happen.
“Why?” he asked.
Gamble was to the point.
“One, you look a little chilly. The tip of your nose is red, and I don’t want you to be cold, and two, I’m about to get really sweaty, and you’ll keep it dry for me so when I put it back on, I will have something warm to wear.”
He did what he asked, and Poe was assaulted with the scent of the man’s body and cologne.
It did everything for his libido, and nothing for his erection. That kiss, his flannel, and this whole adventure was maddening.
In a sexy way.
Damn it.
Just when he didn’t think his dick could get harder, the man said something so insane and hot that it caught Poe off-guard.
“Okay, now, get on,” he said.
What?
The?
Hell?
Did he just say…?
Immediately, Poe lifted a brow.
“Pardon?” he asked, thinking maybe his sexy fantasies were interfering with his ears now too. “Did you just order me to get on you?”
Gamble went there.
“Yeah, I want you to ride me.”
Holy.
Insanely.
Hot.
Shit.
At those follow-up words, Poe had to swallow, or he was choking on his saliva. He was pretty sure his brain just went dead, and his dick was in charge because he went there.
To.
The.
Gutter.
There was nothing he wanted more than to ‘get on’ and ‘ride him’ .
NOTHING.
“I’m sorry, but…,” he said, hesitating as he blushed a crimson shade of red. It moved up his body, and to his face.
Immediately, the other man got it.
Oh, he knew what Poe was thinking. When he’d been kissing him, he could feel his erection pressed to his body, and someone was just as attracted to him, as he was to Poe.
Gamble would bet on it.
In fact, he was betting on a lot of things.
Now, Gamble grinned and it was filled with masculine amusement.
“Maybe later, Doctor. That wasn’t the kind of ride I was thinking about for now, but later…that’s a whole other story.”
Poe gasped.
And Gamble thought it was sexy.
When he was all riled up, the British accent was thicker, and he got flustered easily.
It was a thing of beauty.
“What I meant, Doctor, is I want you to get on my back. I’m going to piggyback you as far as I can before we bed down for a bit. I’m going to need to get us situated before I plan on going back out. I move better at night in the dark,” he admitted.
Poe was horrified.
Oh, he wasn’t nearly as big as Gamble, but he was still the average-sized man, and he weighed a good one sixty.
“You’re still recovering,” Poe said. “I’m over a hundred and sixty pounds. You can’t carry me! I can walk so you don’t have to do that,” he admitted, knowing if he got on his back, Gamble was going to know he was wildly turned on, and sporting the mother of all erections.
For.
Him.
Gamble shut that down.
Oh, he could, and he would carry him, and there was one good reason.
So, he was honest.
“At some point, they are bringing in quads. They are going to be looking for horse prints. They might follow Diablo back toward the orchard. That buys us time in making it to Native land.”
Poe opened his mouth, but Gamble stopped him.
“ BUT if they don’t fall for that little ruse, and they pick up on only one person’s footprints in the soft dirt, they might just think it’s a Native roaming around. That will buy us time too. This is my thing, Doctor. You put me back together again, and now, let me do what I’ve been trained to do.”
How was he arguing that?
“You think they’ll be getting in here with quads?” he asked.
Gamble nodded.
“You know how you read a lot about my career in that folder?” he asked.
Poe nodded.
“That’s not the classified stuff, Doctor. I’ve pissed off a lot of people, and if that’s them looking for me, they’ll bring in quads, drones, and a lot more people. We’re about to play a rousing game of ‘kill the Marine in the woods’ , and I’m the Marine they want to kill. In order to get me, they’ll absolutely play another game.”
He was horrified at the mere thought of Gamble being hurt.
“What game is that?” he asked.
“Another rousing game of ‘kill anyone who the Marine cares about to get him to come out’ . That’s you, Poe. You’re the only other person I care about, and they’ll torture and kill you to get me to come out of hiding.”
Oh, shit.
Poe didn’t like that.
He didn’t like that one bit.
* * * Hunters * * *
New Orleans
Jackson Park
Same Time
Most of the time, his job was easy.
When Lewis Faulkner got the call from Elizabeth, saying she was on her way there, and to give him a side job, he didn’t mind.
Not.
At.
All.
It was boring as hell watching a building.
Truth be told, he liked to be in the middle of the action, and babysitting a house…
That was beneath his skill set.
Granted, sitting in a car, babysitting Chartres was paying him a shit ton of money, and that was padding his nest egg, but still.
He liked to do shit.
It kept his mind off of the fact that he was incredibly alone, and miserable. Oh, he’d never say that out loud, but he was. There was a part of him that longed for the days when he wasn’t hiding in the shadows, like when he first became a Spider. He’d had a good time having vacations with a family, and cuddling up to Axelle.
Only, that was a long time ago.
Now, he was only a man of action. That was why he signed up to work for the CIA as a Spider a long-ass time ago. He had to be busy, or he was a nightmare to deal with.
That was the Marine in him.
Now, as he was about to fuck someone up, that was the Spider in him.
His mission was simple.
Elizabeth wanted him to abscond the Homicide Captain that had no fucking common sense. Since he wouldn’t listen to her warnings, it was time to scare him into paying attention.
That was going to be fun.
Today was the man’s day off, and on his day off, he would show up at Chartres, bang on the door, and try to peek in the windows.
He’d even tried to get into the courtyard a few times to have access to Gene. The irony was that man was a good thousand plus miles away, up North.
Someone was freaking insane.
To go banging on Mikey O’s door, and expect that the short time he’d been their family was going to save his ass…
Clueless.
That this man couldn’t take a hint…that said it all. His broken arm was better, but his lack of sense, clearly, was not.
At that moment, the man was sitting on the front steps, making call after call.
Someone was obsessed.
Like a stalker.
Yeah, Lewis was going to say that this man was going to be a problem for everyone.
That was for damn sure.
Now, because Elizabeth wanted him picked up, he couldn't do that alone. Well, he could, but not without drawing a shit ton of attention.
So, he had backup.
Only, what they both needed now was for the man to move from his spot, and to get closer to the web.
That was going to be how they got the idiot contained—for his own good.
When Elizabeth called, he’d tagged in Wolf as backup. He wasn’t working right now, he was batshit insane, and he was damn good at handling annoyances.
Mostly, he killed them, but when need be, he could muscle a dude into a trunk without snapping his neck.
And that was the plan.
“Come on, dumbass, move,” Lewis said, willing the man to leave the steps in front of Chartres.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
“We have to do plan B,” he said to Wolf. “This dude is trying to make a scene.”
Wolf’s voice came over the com.
“Oh, I got you. Watch and learn, Reaper. I’m an international man of mystery.”
That made Reaper laugh.
Wolf was as country as country came. Trace Benoit was Cajun and crazy.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“Like I said, Cher. Watch and learn.”
That’s when he knew what the man was going to do. As he saw Wolf heading down the sidewalk, he’d stolen a cop’s uniform.
Oh, this should be fun, since the man was the Homicide Captain.
“You’re insane. He’s literally a cop.”
“I know. I like irony, Reaper. Far too often, it’s missed by everyone.”
Lewis rolled his eyes.
Thankfully, his partner was wearing a com, so he could hear it all.
And record it.
Well, here went everything.
“Excuse me, Sir, do you belong here?” Wolf asked the man.
Tommy looked up.
“Excuse me?”
Wolf played cop.
“The people who own this place called the police. They said someone is loitering and acting up out here. They want you to move on.”
He was surprised.
Did they call the cops on him?
A cop?
That was funny since he wasn’t breaking the rules in NOLA.
They.
Were.
Well, he suspected they were. Honestly, it had been too quiet, as of late.
“I used to live here,” he stated. “Do you know who I am?” he asked.
Wolf smiled.
The man lowered his voice, and planned to put the fear of God in him.
“Oh, I know who you are. You’re Thomas Bernard. You were given the role of homicide captain by the FBI. You’re out here causing hell, and I’m here to get you moving along. I think you know who really sent me, and I think you know what that means. Tsk tsk, Captain. One can’t let a man go, now can he?”
Tommy’s eyes went huge.
When his hand went to his gun, Wolf grinned like that was exactly what he wanted.
In fact, he grinned wickedly.
“Oh, please do. You’re in civilian clothes. I’m not. If you shoot at me, it’ll take a while for the cops to figure out who I am, and who you are. I’ll be long gone before they drop your dead body into a body bag. MOVE ,” he said.
Tommy started backing up, trying to move away from the man, and as he did, Reaper got into position.
This was exactly why everyone didn’t want this man to go back to being a cop. He might be tenacious, but he had absofuckinglutely no common sense.
He was dancing with the Devil.
Elizabeth.
As Wolf wrangled the man, Reaper moved out of his car and into the alley not far from Chartres.
The man kept backing up, and before long, he was going into the web.
“Leave me alone. You tell her that she can kiss my ass. I’ll get to him and save him. I know she’s holding him there. That’s the only way this could have possibly went down!”
Wolf didn’t care what he said or did, other than to keep backing up. He was feet from Reaper, and the car they’d stashed in the alley.
Fortunately, all cameras were looping and this man never made it to the steps on anyone’s camera.
You know…
In case he had to disappear.
“If you piss her off, she’ll take care of you,” he said. “Well, I will. A smart man knows when to move on, Captain, and believe me, no one is accusing you of that.”
His eyes went huge.
As soon as he was in front of the alley, Reaper whistled, and when Tommy looked, Wolf moved fast, shoving him in toward the man.
Reaper put him in a submission hold, and Wolf took his gun and badge.
“Someone’s going nighty-night,” he stated, as he tightened his arm around his neck.
Tommy fought, but he couldn’t breathe, and the space around him was going wavy.
His only goal was not to pass out.
Well, that and get to Gene to save him.
When he closed his eyes and went limp, Lewis finally let up, and that was a mistake. He swung his arm back, got him in the balls, and went to get away.
Only, Wolf was there.
He grabbed him by the neck, as Lewis nursed his balls on the ground.
Someone should have just punched him in the face and called it a day—so much for being nice.
Slamming him against the wall, he stared into his eyes.
“We tried to be cordial, Captain. Now, you’re really going out.”
And he slammed him so hard against the wall his bones rattled in his body. That was when the big Cajun let him drop to the dirty alley floor.
This time, Thomas Bernard went lights out.
For a while.