Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
The two guys were trading punches, using cans of soup as weapons.
I liked soup. The soup didn’t deserve this treatment.
I didn’t know these particular two, but I knew the Red Demons. They were relatively new, but they’d been expanding fast, and normal folk like myself wouldn’t usually know this about them. I did because my brother had been friends with the Red Demons’ current VP, or at least the rumor was that Shane King was their VP.
They didn’t have a charter here, but they’d rolled into town a week ago. They’d been spending most of their time at Ruby’s Dexterity, a bar where the rougher folks around here could be found. Bert’s was where the tourists and not-rough crowd hung out. But if you wanted to hire a hitman, go to Ruby’s. I mean, that was the joke around Friendly, Indiana, but people said it for a reason. Because it was true.
Anyway, I still had two bikers and about five hundred dollars in damage to handle, so I waded in.
“Guys!” I shouted, my hands up.
One growled, holding the other up against the shelves.
Sidenote: I was impressed those shelves stayed. I needed to check who the manufacturer was. Good shelving was key.
“You little fuck,” the guy growled. “You don’t think I know, but I know.” He punched the other one.
The other one looked remorseful, and for a moment, I thought maybe the fight was done. He was just going to take his beating.
But then his face twisted. Fury lit him up.
Nope. The fight would continue.
“It wasn’t like that, Corvette!” he snarled, twisting and somehow slipping from the guy’s hold.
He whirled and came at him with a leap and a punch. Corvette was winded, and he fell to his knees from that one. Then with a snarl, he was up, and they were back to shoving each other around.
Not good.
They hit the one section of cans that had been left alone.
Thirty cans fell to the floor.
Lovely.
I was watching three roll past me when I heard a yelp.
A curse.
A shout.
I turned—both bikers were on the ground, and from the scattered cans, it looked like soup had won the fight. Good!
Corvette put a hand to his chest and the other to his face. Seemed he was clueing in to the fact that his face was basically all blood. The other one didn’t look any better.
He cursed and locked in on the second guy. He was winding up another hit or at the very least, a tackle.
I stepped in. “No, you don’t!”
I was too late.
He grabbed a can and prepared to hit the other guy smack in the face.
I stepped in again. “I said, no!” I kicked the can out of his hand. (I could do that. Eight years of soccer—high school and college. Thank you very much.) It was my turn to be a bit dramatic.
I knelt down on both of them. Literally. Knelt down. My knees and hands on their chests, I was thankful I’d worn pants instead of shorts to work today. I glared at them. “I don’t give a fuck how big your motorcycle is. You hit each other one more time, you’re going to regret it.”
Corvette grunted, but he didn’t smart back.
The other one grumbled, “Yeah? You gonna call the cops?”
“Worse. I’ll get you banned from Ruby’s. I’m aware how much you guys like that bar.”
Corvette hissed, touching his face. “How you going to do that?”
“She’s my mama.”
That got their attention, and I knew it was coming.
“You’re Gloves’ little sister?” Corvette asked.
“I’m Gloves’ older sister, by a year.”
I had to add that last part because I was already feeling down. Didn’t need to bring my age into this.
That changed everything, which I’d known it would.
The Red Demons had history with my brother.
“This your store?” Corvette asked, starting to sit up.
I stood so he could finish.
The other sat up, leaned against the shelves, and cursed, probably starting to register the pain that the adrenaline had been keeping at bay. Corvette tried to move, but his hand slipped on some blood and he winced.
I caught his arm, steadying him and helping him sit back.
I realized the blood had a milky texture to it. Some of the soup had opened.
So awesome.
I cleared my throat. “I work here, yeah.”
Both were squinting at me. Or they were trying. Each had one eye completely swollen shut.
I sighed, figuring I should get this over with. “You got two choices. Give me your phone and let me call your club to come get you, or I gotta call the ambulance. If I do that… This is a small town. I’m positive the cops already know, but I had our manager head ’em off from coming in here. It’ll be a different story if the paramedics make a call.”
The second one grumbled, tipping his head back and pinching his nose.