Page 52 of Intent to Kill
“Wait for the signal. M knows what she’s doing,” Paul said.
Tia’s face tightened as she bent to help the girl off the ground, her fingers twitching at her sides like she desperately wanted to clutch at her ribs. The girl was passed back until she was pressed firmly behind Tia and Mercedes’s protective stance.
“We’re here to collect, hand it over.” Another one of them spoke that time.
“And I’ll take her. For free,” the leader said, looking Mercedes up and down. Adam nearly choked. But it wasn’t that he was worried she would be recognized...sinceno one was looking at her fucking face!
Paul placed a warning hand on Adam’s shoulder, holding him back.
“Nothing is free,” Tia said.
“It is for us,” the leader said, chuckling to his friends. “Cash, now.”
“No,” Tia said. She folded her arms, but her voice bounced and her eyes did little to hide her fear.
Adam shared a look with Dan, Paul, and Carlos to make sure they were all on the same page. The signal would be close. The Blake associates would either go quietly. Or...or Adam would have a helluva good time making them leave.
“Don’t fuck around with me, whore. Give us the cash now!”
“I don’t have cash, but I do have a message.”
The bearded one looked like he’d just been told someone had shit on his pillow.
Tia gulped and then continued. “You can tell Dorian Blake that we don’t work for him anymore.”
“Backup, move in,” Adam said, nodding at Carlos. The room suddenly turned. The Blake associates instantly stiffened, glancing around nervously at the new recruits, all on Adam’s payroll, who had turned guns on them.
“Leave on your own or suffer the consequences,” Tia said, defiantly raising her chin.
Viking guy smiled, shaking his head at his boys. “You’ll pay for this, bitch.” He grabbed at Tia, palming her ass in a way that had to be painful.
“That’s enough,” Adam said quietly to himself. He whipped out his pistol and fired. The shot hit the bearded fuck right between the eyes. The air felt suddenly heavy, all eyes locked on the dead body.
“So much for doing it the easy way,” Paul said.
“Yeah, well, too late now,” Adam said, as he readied his gun. He sure did start a lot of fights, but he could finish them too.
Paul and Adam lurched to fight alongside their new recruits, while Dan and Carlos led innocent customers from the building. Mercedes retreated when they arrived, slinging Tia’s arm around her shoulders and guiding the girls into the back.
There were only six Blake associates, not including the dead asshole, but he’d have to avoid gunfire if he wanted to minimize the damage to his nearly acquired property.
Adam rushed ahead, slamming his hand into an elbow to disarm his opponent, and punching another down. Paul was right there alongside him, trading blows of his own as they disarmed the thugs.
Ducking low, Adam dodged a punch, ramming his foot behind him to send the assailant careening into Carlos, who finished him with a silenced gunshot. He blocked another assault with his forearm before he grabbed a second guy by the collar and head-butted him down.
Carlos and Dan were right there, clearing out the mess as Adam and Paul took down the fighters.
The remaining Blake guys must’ve sensed their odds because the three of them traded nervous looks before bolting toward the door. Charging after them, Adam shook his head as he grabbed two collars and hurled them back into Dan and Carlos’s waiting arms.
Adam kicked out a leg to trip the last one.
Sprawling on the floor, he looked up at Adam with wide eyes as he backed away in a crawl. “Who are you?”
Adam raised his brow, giving the guy a frown before he smiled. “Very good. You’ll do.” He leveled him with a harsh glare. “Guess you’re the messenger. Congrats! Thanks to your dead buddies, you’re our winner by default. Tell Blake this club doesn’t belong to him anymore. And the girls don’t work for him.”
The thug whimpered as Adam kicked him in the face, hard, to knock him out. Three of his new recruits stepped up to Adam’s side. Old Cortez guys if he recognized them correctly.
“Drop him on Blake’s front steps.” The recruits obliged, picking up the messenger and dragging him out of the club.
