“Why the fuck not? He all but killed my dad! Quinn, you don’t under—”
“I fucking understand everything!” Quinn roared into Aaron’s face. “He wants you to kill him so everything he’s done to this town goes unpunished. You don’t get to give him that out!”
Aaron glared at him, then gradually deflated, and handed over the Glock. “Don’t give it back to me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Guys? Everything okay?” Brody called from the gates as he jogged back, looking startled. “I thought we were done with the shooting.” When he got to them, the scent of weed clung into him like in the old days. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Quinn took his badge and phone from him. “Take Aaron to the couches or something. Make sure he doesn’t kill that bastard.”
Brody’s eyes widened and he walked with a scowling Aaron to the warehouse.
Quinn turned on the burner and saw a missed call from Day.
To his surprise, Day answered his call immediately.
“Quinn, what’s going on?”
“Well, two of the Skulls are dead, more of them are on the way with a truck full of trafficking victims, my cousin and I have both been shot and oh, the corrupt sheriff of Spruce Creek is in cuffs by my feet,” Quinn said, kicking dust at Henderson who turned his face away.
Day let out a litany of curses and then finally grunted. “Okay, I have some guys coming in from Vegas, and the bigger guns are going to intercept the Skulls on the way. They noticed something changed.”
“Yeah, something about…You know what, I’m pretty sure Jimmy will talk if you put him in touch with whoever. Just get someone here right now to make sense of this mess. I’m taking my family and fucking out of town as soon as someone else gets here.”
Day sighed. “Okay, okay…as long as you keep your official phone on you and are ready to do the usual stuff once they sort this shit out.”
“Yeah. Keep me posted on my other phone. Have the feds or whomever call this one and I’ll make Jimmy talk to them.”
“Sure. Give me five minutes. And Quinn, stay safe.”
“Yeah, will do.”
The debriefing for this whole shit show would be epic and he wasn’t even sure where he’d need to be for it, but he was going to make the DHS and the FBI and who the fuck else accommodate him instead of the other way around. He was so fucking done.
“Stay,” he told Henderson, who sneered at him. “Don’t push your luck. I bet Brody can shoot you in the kneecaps even while high.”
He made his way to the couches and told Brody to go keep an eye on the sheriff. “Sorry to have you run around, but you know…There’s guys coming from Vegas soon, so we’ll get it sorted.”
“Whatever man, I have half of a joint and nothing but time,” Brody replied lazily. He saluted Quinn and Aaron snorted as they watched him saunter away.
“He wasn’t high before, right?”
“No, I think he’s very efficient when he wants to be.” Aaron grinned. Then the grin turned into a weary smile. “I’m sorry.”
Quinn shook his head. “It’s fine. I get it. At least I was there to stop you.”
He went to the couch and sat next to Aaron, then promptly pulled him close and hugged the life out of him. His arm throbbed still, more insistently now that the adrenaline was gone.
“What’s going to happen now?” Aaron asked when he pulled back and gingerly examined the torn sleeve of Quinn’s shirt.
“Someone’s going to call and I’ll make Jimmy talk to them so they’ll be more efficient with stopping the Skulls before they get into town. Some guys Day trusts are coming from Vegas, and as soon as that happens and I’ve explained the situation, I’m going to take you, Charlie, and Lennox, and we’re outta here.”
Aaron looked at him, then leaned in and kissed him. “Okay.”
As if on cue, Quinn’s phone rang. “I’mma deal with this. You call Charlie.”
“Yeah.”
