Levi and Lassiter got between me and the vehicle while my men began shooting. Tristian West was driving, with crazed eyes, white knuckles on the steering wheel, and most importantly—he was alone. There were no guards with him.
My body hummed.
Spence was gone. I wasn’t done with Octavia’s manager.
Irritation beat in me, a steady drum as I turned to focus on the impending arrival.
The vehicle suddenly stopped, and I stepped out from behind Levi and Lassiter, my hand in the air to halt my men from shooting him. “Don’t.” The front door flung open. Tristian West shoved out of the vehicle, a gun in one hand and a wrench in the other.
I paused at that.
A wrench? I expected the gun. A knife at the very least. But a wrench? He could do better with a bat. A steel bat. I would gift him one, or send it to Ashton Walden’s hospital room and have it addressed to “the best friend.” I liked that idea.
“You think this is fucking funny?” He growled, advancing swiftly. The gun was raised.
He was going to shoot. I had seconds to react.
I moved at the same time he pulled the trigger. His shot went wide, hitting the wall behind me. I wasn’t paying attention to anything else, just needing to disarm the threat. Personally I didn’t like guns. They were a coward’s choice of weapon. Anyone could hold a gun and pull a trigger, but a real monster was a weapon in themselves. I liked knives. Or machetes. Or any other weapon, to be honest, because they were just a tool. I was the weapon. How I used them was the weapon. Guns, they were like a cheat card. But because they were effective, I didn’t like having one pointed at me, so as West’s first shot missed, my men yelled from the street.
West turned.
Levi and Lassiter were there.
Levi moved in to block him, and Lassiter grabbed West’s arm, disarming him instantly. West went still, seeing the odds. He was outnumbered.
He came here to kill me.
Levi shoved West hard against his own vehicle. It jarred him, but didn’t stop him. He swung the wrench.
“Levi,” I barked, yanking him back.
He shot me a look, but I ignored him. We both knew it wasn’t because I was worried about him. Levi could hold his own. It was because I wanted in on some of this action.
“Fuck’s sakes, Creight.” But he moved back, and West lunged for me.
He swung again.
I stepped to the side, noting, “Was it the sight of your best friend that did this? You’re not thinking clearly, West.” When he swung a second time on me, it was almost insultingly easy to avoid that one too. “You’re also not good at this either.”
“At what?” he growled again, swinging backward. “And fuck you, Lane.”
I’d taken his best friend, strung him up, and tortured him. I did to Ashton Walden what his reputation says he does to others. As for Tristian West, there’d not been much information on his fighting ability. I could see why there wasn’t. There wasn’t anything to report.
“Enough.” I ducked one last time and twisted the wrench out of his hands. As soon as I did, I tossed it to Levi. He caught it and grabbed West from behind. He brought his own wrench around West’s throat, using it to hold him in place.
Tristian West wasn’t thinking clearly. That much was obvious. I took a step closer to inspect him. Between his wife’s gallery burning down and what I had done to his best friend,hadI put him over the edge?
I leaned in. “You are the steady one in your group. Your wife is not steady. Your best friend certainly is not. His woman, no. You are. That’s your role. That’s not what this is. This isn’t who you are.” I shook my head. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you send your guards?”
“Because you would’ve killed them.”
“They’re guards. That’s their job.”
“Not mine.”
This was perplexing.
He was a king that felt his fall coming, but most kings ran to survive. They tried to become king somewhere else. He wasn’t going away. He came in place of his men. I sought to hurt him and Ashton Walden where it would do the most damage. I didn’t go for their men. Their businesses. I went for their heart.
