Page 112 of Vandal Unbound

“We hacked your network,” Knox says.

We did?

“You did?” Alvarez asks.

Knox nods. “Cristian’s phone. You got some reckless people, and we’ve got some badass technical guys. I have enough evidence to put you and your business away for decades.”

Fuck-You moves forward. So do I.

“What are you proposing?” Alvarez asks, his face resigned.

“A permanent truce,” Knox says. “I don’t see you in my town, plus or minus a hundred clicks up and down the coast. I won’t bring any business to Miami. But you do one thing to harm my club…steal a shipment, beat one of my men, wear a cut and patches you never fucking earned…I’ll release all that data. And know it doesn’t sit here in my clubhouse or even in this state. It’s long gone to places you will never find it. And there are four copies, with clear instructions of what to do with it if there’s everan attack on my club. So, you agree to stop this, and I tell you where Cristian is.”

Alvarez shakes his head. “I want him brought here.”

Knox laughs. “So you can carry out some plan to kill us once you have him? You must think this is my first rodeo. No, we’ll ride out of here, then I’ll text you where you can find Cristian.”

But Alvarez clearly hasn’t had the same conversation with his men that Knox had with us. And snake guy launches at Knox. “Tell me where my son is!”

“The fucking irony he’s your son,” I say. “Because I hurt him.”

“What?” Color drains from his face.

“Not like you hurt me. He’ll not be permanently injured or scarred. But if you or any of your family come anywhere near mine again, I will have no mercy, and my judgement will be swift.”

Knox steps forward. “And fuck us around as we leave, and I’ll make sure that happens today.”

But snake guy is clearly a bad listener, because he lunges and has his hands around Knox’s neck before any of us can do anything about it. And the guy has a grip so strong, Knox’s tongue slips out, his face beet red, as he grips the guy’s wrists.

Knox’s boots scrape against the gravel as the guy pushes him backward.

And then I detonate.

I charge him and hit him hard enough in the ribs with my knuckle duster that I swear I hear a rib crack. With a gasp, he lets go of Knox as I gain momentum and he stumbles back. He hits the SUV so hard, it leaves a dent in the front quarter panel. The metal caves with a hollow, expensive crunch as he slumps to the floor.

Behind me, Havoc slams into another of Alvarez’s men, and I see the flash of a blade.

“Fucking…pussy,” Havoc says. “Crying like a baby.”

Snake guy swings wildly, and I release him enough that his fist glances off my shoulder rather than any already broken part of my skull.

“Now it’s your turn,” I say. “Because there’s nothing you can do to me that I can’t or won’t come back from. Let’s see how you do.”

I grab his shirt, raise my hand, and punch, the spike on the knuckle duster cutting through skin, damaging bone.

Somewhere behind me, someone screams. I don’t know who it is. For a second, I struggle to make sense of what I’m seeing as more men pour out of the back of the SUVs, dragging guns and knives.

Gravel sprays beneath boots. The quiet marina is filled with the ugly sound of fighting. Snake guy is bleeding badly, the fight ebbing out of his body as he disappears into shock. Blood runs down his side, over my knuckle duster and forearm.

Arms come around my shoulders hard and tight, and I’m about to fight them off when I realize it’s Knox.

And a gunshot is fired into the air.

Just a single one.

Knox tugs me off the man on the floor. He’s slumped down. Definitely still conscious, but only just. Knox is breathing rough through a throat that will probably be bruised by morning.

“Enough,” shouts Alvarez.