OWNED & UNTAMED (Back Down Devil MC #11) - London Casey Page 0,23
I asked the barkeep.
“You’re not from around here,” he said. He reached under the bar and put a gun on the bar.
“I’ve got one of my own,” I said.
“Mine’s bigger,” Cash said. “He gets jealous.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” the barkeep said.
“Not getting a tip that way,” Kye said.
“I’ll give him a tip,” Trent said. He leaned over and quickly put his hand on the barkeep’s gun. “If you ever talk to one of my brother’s like that again, I’ll kill you.”
Trent moved quick and smooth, taking the clip out of the gun.
From the corner of my eye came the three guys that were shooting pool.
Guns were already drawn.
“Sorry about your beer,” I whispered to Cash.
“What?” he asked.
I grabbed Cash’s beer mug and tossed it to my left, hitting all three guys with beer. I then jumped to the middle guy and smashed the mug off his fucking face. It hit with a hard thud and didn’t break.
As I drove him back, a brawl broke out.
I waited for a gunshot or ten but it was quiet. Other than the fighting.
I took my guy back and over a pool table. I landed two rights to his nose before I felt a hot fire against my ride side. I rolled out of the way and fell against a pool table. A guy stood there holding half of a broken pool stick. He then thrust the broken piece at me like a spear. I jumped back and grabbed for a pool ball. It was the eight ball. How lucky of me. I tossed it forward and clanked the asshole right in the forehead. He dropped the pool stick and grabbed for his face. I went after him, dropping him with two punches.
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.