“It’s your going away party.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, I’m not going anywhere,” he snapped, pulling out his cell phone. “In fact, I’m going to call the police right now.”
“Go ahead.” I nodded. “In fact, the more civil servants who know about your extracurricular activities, the better. In fact, you call the police and I’ll call Christine Beach over at KRTV.”
“What are you talking about?” he rasped.
“We have video footage of you frequenting the Inner Sanctum more than a dozen times.”
“Where the fuck did you get that? I’ll slap you with so many lawsuits—”
“Not before we release this to every news outlet in the Pacific Northwest. And I would highly suggest you not underestimate our capabilities.”
Clearly seeing we meant business, he slumped against the wall and asked, “What do you want?”
“I want you to pack up your shingle and get the fuck out of town within the next forty-eight hours. If you don’t, I’ll know. And next time I come to visit you, I’ll leave with one of your fingers.” I smiled slowly. “To show I’m a fair guy, I’ll let you choose which one I take.”
“This is my practice, you don’t have the power or authority to do that.”
Train grabbed him, pinning his arm flat against the wall and forcing him to spread his fingers out. I pulled the knife out from my boot and approached him.
I got two steps forward when he yelled, “Okay, okay.”
I nodded to Train who released the sniveling piece of shit. “I mean it. Forty-eight hours. Leave town. Don’t come back. Believe me when I say we’ll be keeping tabs on you.”
Nick scowled, but then gave me a reluctant nod, and I turned and led my brothers out the door.
Flash
About three weeks into our blissful existence as an engaged couple, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up with a frown, not having seen the number pop up for a long time. “Flash here.”
“Hey, Flash, it’s Monty Robb.”
Captain Monty Robb worked for Sacramento FD, and I’d flown for him early in my flight career.
“Captain Robb, how the hell are you?”
