Chapter 23
Seth
I'm already standing when the first man reaches for his gun.
I fire twice. One round hits his chest. The second punches through his skull. He drops before his weapon clears the holster.
Screaming erupts across the club. Dancers throw themselves to the floor. Customers overturn tables and crawl for cover. Velvet curtains tear loose as another man fires toward us, the rounds shattering glass along the wall.
Beau moves without hesitation. He fires once into a man’s shoulder. The guard staggers sideways, still trying to raise his weapon. Beau adjusts and fires again into his neck. The man collapses, his body folding inward as he hits the floor.
Another guard rushes from the edge of the stage, trying to circle behind us. Beau turns, kicks a barstool into the man’s knees, and fires at close range into his temple. The body slams backward, blood splattering across the wall.
A waitress screams and drops behind the bar, dragging herself along the floor to get out of the line of fire.
More movement in the back hallway.
I drop behind a couch and fire twice as another guard steps out with his weapon raised. The rounds catch him high in the chest. He stumbles forward and crashes face first onto the floor.
Gunpowder thickens the air.
Beau calls out, “Reloading.”
I lean out from cover and fire toward the DJ booth. A guard jerks as the round catches him in the ribs. He drops behind the speakers, groaning.
A blonde stripper presses herself against a mirrored wall, shaking, her hands clamped over her ears as she sobs.
“Go,” I tell her.
She slides down the wall and scrambles for the emergency door.
A man steps into the hallway with a sawed off shotgun raised at chest level.
Too slow.
I drive forward, closing the distance before he can steady his aim. I fire once into his throat and again into his chest.
He still manages to pull the trigger.
The blast goes wild.
Behind me, wood explodes and glass rains down. The force rips through the space where I stood a second earlier.
Beau slams into me and drives us behind an overturned booth as the shotgun clatters across the floor.
“Move!” Beau barks, hauling me with him.
Someone near the stage is still crawling, trying to reach a dropped pistol.
I kick the weapon away and shove the man back with my boot.
“Where the fuck is Dante?” I shout.
Beau lifts his head just enough to scan the room. His eyes move across the balcony, the hallway, the bar.
“Gone.”
I look up toward the balcony. The mirrored glass overlooking the club is empty.
Dante has left.
I lean into the microphone clipped inside my jacket.
“Travis, he’s coming out the front. Gray jacket. Blue pants. Shoot him if you see him.”
For a second there is nothing but the bass vibrating through the speakers and the sound of people crying.
Then a single gunshot cracks from outside.
Beau and I stop moving at the same time.
The club falls into a broken quiet. Bodies lie scattered across the floor. Music still thumps through the speakers, warped and muffled beneath the sound of groaning.
I run for the exit and shove through the front door.
Travis stands near the SUV with his gun raised. His hands are shaking. His face has gone pale. His eyes are locked on the man collapsed near the curb.
Dante lies on the pavement, writhing and clutching his foot. Blood soaks through his designer pants and pools beneath him.
“I think I got him,” Travis says, breathless. “Holy shit. I got him.”
Beau steps past me and lets out a low whistle.
“Well, damn. You’re officially not useless.”
Dante screams and tries to drag himself away across the asphalt.
I holster my gun and walk toward him.
His mouth opens as he tries to speak.
I kick him hard in the stomach.
“We’re taking a ride.”
His eyes widen. “I’m not going anywhere. Do you know who I work for?”
I grab him by the collar and haul him closer.
“Yeah, that’s why you’re going to take me to Elliot’s manor.”
“Fuck you. I’m not telling you shit.”
He thinks this is a negotiation.
He’s wrong.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
“That’s what they all say.”