Addictive (Houston Defiance MC #2) - K.E. Osborn Page 0,63
pulling off and jump off our rides, gathering in a tightknit group.
“We go in. If they shoot at us, we shoot back, but don’t aim to kill. Injure only, okay?”
“Got it,” they all reply.
“Neon, you ready?”
He drops his chin pulling out some weird fucking gadget. “This should break through their security system easily.”
“Right, let’s do it.” I gesture for Neon to head off first. He leads the single line formation as we run alongside the tall metal fence. The barbed wire running the top perimeter reminds me of a prison camp. Neon scans his gadget over the security access point, and the lights flick to green. The gates begin to open, and we file in a long line, drawing our guns.
“Who opened the gate?” someone calls out.
It pulls back revealing us to the Militia who are in the compound. They all widen their eyes, throwing their hands in the air. None of them have weapons on them as we race in, our guns aimed directly at them.
“Where. Is. Hawke?” I call out.
They all point toward the main building. They’re all around eighteen and look terrified. These young men must be new infantry. New recruits to their cause.
We rush inside the building as a bullet flies past my head.
“That was a warning shot, Wraith!” Hawke calls out as his soldiers rush toward us completely weaponless.
Oh, so they want to use their fists?
Well, I for one, am happy to oblige.
“Hand to hand, brothers,” I call out as a soldier tries to sucker punch me. I duck, weaving around him, then land a jab right in his ribs. He leans over, winded, as another swoop-kicks my legs out from under me. Fucker. My legs turn to jelly as I fall on my ass. The soldier picks up a chair, preparing to smash it over my head, when Kevlar tackles him to the floor. The wooden chair splinters off into tiny pieces as I jump from the cold concrete, dusting myself off. Kevlar lays into the soldier as I take off after another in my efforts to get to Hawke.
The asshole’s on a landing, a level up, glaring down from above like a creeper—someone who lets his underlings do his dirty work.
The soldier punches straight for my face, but I block it, sideswiping it away, landing an uppercut to his jaw. His teeth crunch together with the force causing his front tooth to crack. He spits out a line of blood as he stumbles to the side.
The urge starts to kick in.
My need.
My addiction.
I want to finish him off. I would like nothing more than to choke an asshole and watch the life drain from his body right now.
But that’s not what this is all about.
So, I slam my fist into his nose, knocking the asshole out for good measure.
Suddenly, someone grabs me from behind, an arm racing around my throat in a headlock. I try to throw them over my back, but it’s of no use. He’s too big. He squeezes, cutting off my airway.
“Enough!” Hawke calls out as my frantic eyes focus on him.
My guys stall their fights with the infantry soldiers. The soldiers stop, stand back, as I signal to my men to halt as well, even though I’m still in a headlock, albeit less of a chokehold now and more like a restraining gesture.
“Get your man to let me go, Hawke,” I call up to him.
He waves his hand through the air, and the asshole behind me lets me go. “What I want to know, Wraith, is why the fuck you and your men felt the need to storm in here to try and tear my place up? I thought we had an understanding?”
Gritting my teeth at his blatant bullshit, I pull out my gun and aim it directly at him. “We have a deal on the table, Hawke. You get a percentage of the Snow White tablets and that puts us in business together. So why the fuck are you stealing from us?”
Hawke signals to Malik. His sergeant walks over to me with his hand open and the smashed tracker in it. “This yours?”
I snort out a response. “As if you didn’t know?”
Hawke rubs his chin as he edges down the metal staircase. “Honestly, Wraith, I didn’t. A seller came to me offering cargo. Said it was pure. I said I’d try it to see what it’s like. If it’s good, I’d get more. It started with one brick, then it was upped to three.”