“Ah, there you are,” I said as I turned toward the docks. “How’s everything look?”
I waited patiently for his response. “There’s still two bodies in the shadows of Angel’s building.”
“On it,” Viper said.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Outside of blood stains that’ll have to be pressure-washed before tomorrow morning, we’re good,” Goose said.
“Guys, I got Nadia on the phone,” Angel said with a whisper.
“That was quick,” I said as I turned back toward the girls.
A large splash sounded before the pounding of feet ushered in yet another one, and I grinned as I pictured Viper throwing the last of those plague-filled rats into the ocean.
Forever to be lost to our world.
“Reaper, where did you put the pressure washer?” Viper asked.
“Front passenger seat,” Reaper said.
I placed my finger to my earpiece. “Angel? Ask Nadia if she can—”
He interrupted me. “She’s already on her way with two of the security guards I hired for the shelter. She’ll be here in twenty.”
“God, I love this family,” Bender said.
“Hey! You!”
I slowly turned toward the yelling voice and found one lone man standing on the docks, blood dripping from his ears and nose as he wobbled on his legs. He held a gun up to my face, though it kept darting around as he tried to steady his aim.
“Fangs?” Bender asked.
I held up my finger as I walked toward the man. “Sir?”
The man closed one eye before he turned the gun over my shoulder. “I’ve got you now, asshole.”
I walked all the way up to him and moved his gun so that it was aiming straight at my chest. “Now you do, yes.”
Goose chuckled in my ear. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Julia says to watch it,” Reaper warned.
I looked up toward the nearest camera he had set up and blew Julia a kiss.
“She said that’s not funny,” Reaper said.
I chuckled before I brought my attention back to the man with the wobbling gun. “So, shoot me.”
“What?” the man asked breathlessly.
I held my arms out. “You’re ready to defend your bossman, am I right? Ready to take vengeance out on whoever killed Bullet?”
He swallowed hard, but the burp that followed wreaked of puke. He most certainly had a concussion, and how he was still standing on his two feet, I’d never understand.
“Ye—yeah,” the man said with a stutter.
“Are you sure about that?” I asked.
