Deadshot took a step forward so that there was almost no space between him and the tall man. “Look, I don’t know who you or your friends are, and I don’t care. We didn’t come here looking for trouble, so why don’t you just let us leave?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” The tall man smiled, showing his rotting teeth. “Because we know who you are.”
***
Deadshot really wasn’t looking for a fight, but the last couple of months had been monotonous at best, so maybe a fight was what he needed. He was worried about the kid, though. Deadshot could take care of himself; he always had. And if something did happen to him, it wouldn’t be so bad. He had lived a relatively good life, and he had always thought that he would die in a gunfight. In fact, he was surprised that he had lasted as long as he had and that he got to retire.
“Who do you think I am?” Deadshot asked, raising a brow.
“I don’t think, I know,” the tall man replied. “You are Deadshot, famous bounty hunter and justice seeker.”
Apparently, the man really did know exactly who he was. “Okay, say that is me. Why does it matter to you? I’m retired and simply passing through.”
“You killed my brother,” the man replied, “and caused my best friend to be locked up for life.”
Well damn,Deadshot thought. That would be enough reason for anybody to hate him. “Look, I don’t know who you are referring to. I’ve caught and killed many criminals over the years. If your brother and friend were amongst them, I’m sorry, but they deserved what they got.”
The man’s nostrils flared. “My brother did not deserve to die!” he roared.
Deadshot held up his hand, showing that he wasn’t looking for a fight. “All right, just calm down.”
The man laughed. “You want me to calm down!” He glanced over his shoulder at the men lined up behind him. “This son of a bitch killed Luca and wants me to calm down.”
Deadshot had no idea who Luca was, but then again, his memory wasn’t what it used to be, and if he was being honest, he didn’t always care enough to even try to remember. Once he had found and caught his bounty, he moved on to the next one. He only really remembered the names of the most infamous criminals he caught. He had spent twenty-six years chasing down evil men; the odds of him remembering the man’s brother and friend were slim to none.
“So what, you want revenge?” Deadshot asked.
“Of course I want revenge. You killed my brother!”
All around them, men were listening now. Some had their hands on their pistols; others were eyeing the door.
“All right, fellas,” the barkeep said, speaking up. “Why don’t you take this outside?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Deadshot agreed. If they were outside, the kid could find a safe place to hide.
“Not happening,” the tall man argued. “This ends right here, right now.”
Chapter 27
“At least let the kid go,” Deadshot requested. The kid still had his whole life to live. He might never find his mother or sister without Deadshot’s help. However, as things stood right now, they weren’t any closer to finding them anyway. The kid could go back home, run the ranch, and make something of his life.
“Not happening,” the man replied. “In fact, I think I’ll kill him first so that you have to watch it.”
Deadshot shrugged. “He’s not mine. I don’t want him to die, but if you think killing him in front of me is going to make up for me killing your brother, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Next to him, the kid sucked in his breath. Clearly, Deadshot’s words had affected him. Deadshot hadn’t said them because they were true, but to try to convince the bandit that the kid meant nothing to him. Of course, Deadshot would never admit that he actually cared about the kid. Caring wasn’t something he did willingly. Caring made him weak, and Deadshot did not want to be weak.
“I think I’ll start with him anyway.” He glanced over his shoulder. “What do you all think?”
“Kill the kid,” one of them said.
“Torture him first,” another added.
The whole situation was absolutely ridiculous, and the conversation was carrying on for way too long. Deadshot did not have the time or patience to entertain simpletons like them. If they wanted a fight, they would have one. Without warning or another word, he drew his Colt, lifted it so that the barrel was aimed at the man’s chest, and pulled the trigger. Deadshot might not be the young bounty hunter he used to be, and his knees and body were definitely not the same, but he was still able to draw his pistol and fire it faster than the bandits could react.
The sound of the shot echoed through the saloon, causing chaos to erupt. Some men drew their weapons, while others ran for the door. The tall bandit who had started the fight and gotten a bullet in his chest for his efforts stumbled back and crashed to the ground. Deadshot spared a glance in the kid’s direction. To his relief and surprise, the kid had already drawn his weapon.
One of the four men who was with the instigator pulled back his arm and swung it toward Deadshot. The man next to him was lifting his pistol in the kid’s direction. Deadshot had to act fast. Grabbing the man’s arm who was trying to punch him, Deadshot spun him around and pushed him into the other man. They toppled to the ground, causing the man to accidentally pull the trigger.
