“Got it.” Cherry looked around the room, surprised to find three men still on the floor. The two he’d interacted with and another by the front door. “These three toes up?”
“Yup. You’re a hella deadly Enforcer, I like it.” Salty grinned, then licked at his split lip, more blood trickling down his chin. “Fuckin’ glad you’re on our team, brother.”
“Three down. Three to go.” Cherry clenched and released his fist a few times, finally feeling the sting of busted knuckles and aching flesh. “I’m glad we’re on the same team, too, man.”
Outside there were three men in a line kneeling in the dirt, bound hands lifted behind their backs, forcing their heads down.
“Which ones are Apollo and Dillinger?” He saw a prisoner jerk at the question and pointed at him. “Which one is he?”
“Dillinger, the VP. Apollo is still inside.”
“Not no more he isn’t. Get those colors off them. ASMC is no more, we’re going to burn all those vests.” He watched as men went to work on removing the vests.
A man shouted in pain and Cherry saw Jinx shrug. “Oops.”
“Listen—” Cherry turned when the door opened behind him. Several bodies were being carried outside, these were the RC members that ASMC had slaughtered. “Know what? Never mind.” He walked behind the first man, pulled his gun, and in a smooth movement slotted the muzzle against the back of the man’s head. “Goodbye.” He squeezed the trigger, then took two steps to put himself behind the next man. And then the next.
Cherry winced; the kickback of the gun had set his side on fire.
“Hey, Salty,” Jinx called, “Enforcer needs a little more TLC.”
“On it.” Salty was in Cherry’s face, then an arm slipped underneath his own, holding him up. “Let’s go back inside so I can get at things better. Hey, Sir, can you grab that bag off my bike again?” He must have received an affirmative response because Salty grunted out, “Thanks.”
“Report on our injured?”
“Other than you, you mean?”
“Don’t crawl up my ass, Salty. Just give me a rundown.”
“One with bruised, or more likely, broken ribs. We’ll dope him and he can ride his bike back, no problem. Second with a through-and-through in his leg. No major structures compromised, but he’s got a fucking big hole in his skin. I’ve got him packed and wrapped, and he should be good to go, it’s not his shifter leg.” Salty maneuvered Cherry to a chair and pushed him into it. “Do you know who did the stabby stabby to you?”
“Is that what it is?” Cherry looked down and noticed a hole in his vest. “Fucking asshole pegged my cut.”
“We’ll stitch around it in celebration of your survival.” Salty took a pack from Sir Loin, then gestured at Cherry. “Hold his arms up, yeah?”
Fingers probed where the fire was worst, where the small blaze was burning, and with the attention it flared into a wildfire.
“The fuck. That hurts.”
“Good, means you aren’t in shock. Give me another thirty seconds and I’ll start packing it. The blade nicked two ribs, the bones keeping the knife from slamming home. I just want to get the splinters out.”
Another probe unleashed a new wave of fire that had Cherry gritting his teeth together hard.
“Nearly done, brother?” The pressure disappeared and Cherry pulled in a breath. He looked down for the first time, noticing the swath of blood that went from his sternum to the hem of his shirt. Lifting the tail, he saw a hole with a plug of what looked like fabric. “This gonna hold until tomorrow?”
“Should, long as you don’t engage in too vigorous activity.” Salty was grinning, brows waggling suggestively. “You know what I mean.”
Cherry pulled out his phone and made the necessary calls, beginning with one to Wildman about the cache of Tannerite they’d danced around tonight. His next call started a cleaning crew moving towards the RC clubhouse. He counted seventeen dead.All of them because of ASMC’s useless fucking decisions. Instead of standing and taking their medicine, they had to come up here and ruin more lives.
Ignoring the anger still circling through his gut, he sent one final text, *Done. Coming home to you.*
