And that’s when Gordon switched tactics. “That’s rich, coming from you. You’re in bed with the same assholes that fill our streets with illegal weapons. I’ve been chasing those fucking weapons down my entire career, and you’re working for them!”
“No,” the sheriff said as he stopped in front of Gordon, “I’m not in bed with them. Not like you are with Tommy Gun Griggs. I do, however, use this crew and its members as C.I.’s to keep me updated on who’s moving into the city.”
Gordon balked. “That’s not true. I’ve gotten you all of those leads. I’ve gotten you all of those wins.”
Sheriff Barnes shrugged as he backed toward me. “How do you think I verified all of your information?”
I smirked. “Surprise.”
Gordon pointed his finger at Troop. “I can prove that these motherfuckers deserve to be arrested. That they’re good for nothing assholes that--.”
The sheriff held up his hand. “Sometimes, Gordon, C.I.’s are a dirty means to a clean end. I keep them out of trouble, and they point me in the direction of their buyers.”
“That is—you—that’s not—fuck!”
“You, on the other hand, have been lining your pockets with money from the mafia and keeping the same weapons you claim to hate out on the street.”
Gordon threw his hands into the air. “That’s the same fucking thing!”
Sheriff Barnes walked up to him and, to my shock, ripped that man’s badge right off his fucking hip. He held it up to Gordon’s face, with the damn thing shaking in his hand as rage filled his body. I slowly reached out for Naomi. I pulled her toward me, tucking her behind me once more so she didn’t have to watch. So she didn’t have to see the shitshow that I knew would happen.
Because Gordon struck me as the kind of guy that wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“If you can’t see the difference,” the sheriff hissed as he shook the badge in that motherfucker’s face, “then you don’t deserve to wear this badge.”
And Gordon erupted. “You stupid, empty-headed bitch!”
His heated gaze flickered around to find Naomi, but I blocked her from view.
“Sorry,” I said with a shrug, “can’t look at the goods without paying the ‘good boy’ toll first.”
Dutch and Troop came over, brushing past the angry man to come stand at my side. With Dutch’s knives shimmering in the hallway light and Troop’s guns still at the ready, they stood on either side of me.
Blocking the whole of the woman we had come to love, and respect, and admit.
“Gordon,” the sheriff said as he plucked Gordon’s own fucking handcuffs of his tactical belt, “you’re under arrest for conspiracy, coercion, attempted murder, harassment, and a host of other things I’m sure we’ll figure out soon enough.”
“Bye, bye,” Dutch said as he wiggled his fingers at the man.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Sheriff Barnes said as he yanked Gordon’s arms behind him. “Anything you say can, and most certainly will, be held against you in a court of law.”
Sheriff Barnes was much stronger than he looked, too, because when he yanked Gordon toward the hidden doorway to walk back out into the house, he damn near pulled Gordon straight off his feet.
We pivoted with the scene, cloaking Naomi from all of it as she stood behind us.
“You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, one will be appointed for you. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time.”
And as the two men made their way toward the main house staircase, I couldn’t turn around fast enough.
“Naomi, are you all right?”
Dutch whipped around as well. “Did he shoot you at all?”
Troop scoffed as he holstered his weapons. “Jesus, your nose. It looks broken. Here, let me take a look at it.”
But, she held up a hand, stopping our movements in their tracks. She drew in a deep, unimpeded breath through her mouth, and the way her entire body started vibrating worried me.
“I’m okay. I mean, my face hurts, but I just—I just need—.”
