Page 112 of York

Twice.

His body jolted, stumbled, wavered, and fell.

But the other ducked down behind the car, protecting himself behind the wheel.

With the moon shining just right through the clouds, I saw the glint of metal.

There was no way to take him out while he was hiding. And no way to approach when he was armed and aiming at me.

I was still debating my options when the craziest shit happened.

The trunk to Runa’s car slid silently open.

And a man folded himself out.

I saw the gun.

The gun focused on me?

He never saw it coming.

There was a loud bang.

Then complete and utter silence.

Who the fuck was that?

And when the fuck did he climb into my trunk?

I had more questions than answers, but I knew I couldn’t let this fucker just… waltz away after he watched me off someone.

I moved out of the treeline, arm raised, gun aimed on the guy as he straightened.

He was tall, lean-fit, and wearing a black tee and black jeans. A silver chain hung from his neck, but I couldn’t make out the medallion on it.

He had an angular face, dark eyes, and black hair that was dripping with sweat from being inside the hot trunk.

“Didn’t think you’d mind the assist,” he said, kicking the body of the man that had fallen into his own car so that he fell to the ground with a sick thump. “Couldn’t imagine you would have managed to get him without a risky shootout.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

He’d set his gun down, but I didn’t dare lower my arm.

He held out his arms and shot me a devilish grin.

“Spiro.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Not yet, but it will.”

“We’re standing here over two dead bodies. I’m not in the mood for fucking games, Spiro.”

“Call Huck.”

How the fuck did he know Huck?

And if he knew Huck, why didn’t Huck mention him to the club?