Blacklisted (Loveless, Texas #3) - Jay Crownover Page 0,25
Coleman anywhere, I made the decision to see what was behind the door.
I was grabbed from behind as I made my way toward the bar. I shook off the hold and put the kid on the ground with a single punch. I ordered the women to stay where they were, and easily knocked the knife out of the bartender’s hand when he suddenly lunged at me. I didn’t want to hurt him, just get him out of my way, so I knocked him to the ground and ordered him to stay there unless he wanted to bleed. He stayed still and lifted his hands up in surrender. As expected, the men who knew how to fight were all outside engaged with the rest of my club, leaving an opening for me to find Coleman with little fuss.
Still, as I shouldered the heavy door open, I pulled my weapon. I wanted to be prepared for anything. Coleman and his older brother had both proven to be unpredictable and wily. They were also both master marksmen, something I’d failed to consider previously. I wasn’t going to make that same mistake again.
My boots banged heavily on the rickety steps, which led down into what was effectively a root cellar. It was dark, dank, and smelled bad. Mostly because of the heavy chemicals used in the manufacturing of methamphetamine. I was glad I’d pulled my mask back up around my face, though it only offered a modicum of protection. Noise from the outside situation rang against the hollow walls. The sounds took me back to any number of bunkers I’d had to hunker down in while in an active combat zone. Blinking back against more than one unpleasant memory, and the dim darkness, I scanned the underground meth lab for any sign of movement.
It didn’t take long for my prey to show himself.
From underneath a long table covered in drug paraphernalia, including all kinds of beakers and unidentifiable chemicals, I caught sight of twin barrels aiming right for me. I dove off the stairs and hit the hard, cold ground before the first shot fired in my direction made my ears ring. Rolling to get behind an old beer cooler for protection, I returned fire, hearing glass shatter as a result.
Exactly what I’d been trying to avoid was now happening. All those chemicals were going to be volatile and loose in the air, making the situation even more dangerous than it already was. They were highly flammable, and the slightest spark could turn the entire bar into a fireball.
“Coleman. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s best if you just come out. There is no scenario in which this ends well for you.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but the bastard had killed two of my brothers and nearly killed me. The score I had to settle with him was huge.
“You killed my brother, Caldwell. What makes you think this will end well for you either?” The thick Texas twang didn’t have a hint of fear in it. Coleman was just as set on revenge as I was.
I swore loudly as another shot echoed through the space. “You want to blow us both up? Idiot.”
“As long as I take you with me, I don’t give a shit!” The words sounded unhinged, and the man wasn’t making any sense. The situation was getting more and more dangerous by the minute, and as much as I wanted Coleman in my hands, my conscience couldn’t bear the idea of the women and other innocent people upstairs getting caught in the crossfire. I couldn’t abide unnecessary casualties.
The sound of the shotgun being reloaded had the hairs on the back of my neck lifting up. Also, the commotion from outside the bar had grown to deafening levels and I was sure bloodshed had started. This whole thing had turned into a mess, and I was reminded why revenge wasn’t always the best answer. Sadly, I’d never been able to walk away from the search for retribution. My soul was restless until the proper price was paid.
The cooler I was hiding behind shifted as Coleman’s shot blasted into the side. I jumped a little, more because the sulfur smell of smoke and burning chemicals started to fill the air, making it increasingly hard to breathe. My eyes started to burn, and my exposed skin started to feel itchy and too tight. Things were going bad, quicker than I expected, and my options were limited.