Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“I will. As soon as I get what I came for.”
“All you’re gonna get is a beat down if you don’t get your ass out this neighborhood.”
“I don’t wanna hurt any of you. I’m here for one man. Grossman.” Ford watched their expressions go from angry to shocked to defensive. “I can tell you know him. Where is he?”
“Leave, dude.” The light-skinned one said, turning and walking back to the shop. One coward down. Was Grossman scarier than Ford?
“You must have a death wish.” The baton holder said. “I wouldn’t rat on big John. No one on this street will. So, get the hell….”
Ford advanced faster than any of them could move. He had his arm up, cocked, ready to throw a haymaker. Ready to make someone go to sleep, but the crook in his elbow was hooked and held by a leather-clad forearm. Ford roared and whirled on his brother. Brian’s look of confusion and fury was like a bucket of freezing water on Ford’s hot head. Brian didn’t have to sign anything, his dark, expressive eyes said exactly what he was thinking.
What the fuck is wrong with you, brother?
“Y’all trying to jump us?!” Balls of Steel yelled.
This made more men come pouring from the barber shop and the Rockwood Ink tattoo shop next door. Each guy looking more menacing than the last. The tattoo owner was a white man, big, bald, without a single un-inked inch of skin. He had a bat leaning on one shoulder. “You two men lost?”
Fuck. He and Brian were good. But Ford counted nine men now. He’d at least take one or two hits. Something he wasn’t really in the mood for. He needed to save his energy for Grossman. Besides, his brother was giving him an infuriated look, though he stayed close to Ford’s side.
Popping his neck, he and Brian both tucked their suspended badges away – no one could use the chains to choke them – and got into a fighting stance, standing back to back.
Baton and Balls were the first to approach, looking a lot more confident now that they had more back up. Scowl in place and fists up, Balls hadn’t even made it within five feet of Ford when the sound of rapid gunfire from a Remington rifle pierced the air. Most of the men ran for cover, not recognizing the difference between gun-powder filled bullets and empty shells. Three-inch gold empty bullets were sprayed skillfully at the men’s feet, only inches away from them. The brass hit the ground, forming a perfect arch. When the shooting stopped, it looked like a bullet barrier surrounded him and his brother.
Dana.
Magnificent.
Ford didn’t need to turn around to know his guy was there. Somewhere out there on a rooftop, weapons all around him, watching, assessing, then finally acting. Ford’s grin was threatening. “That’s a warning. The next round won’t be empties.”
Firing live ammunition was a huge no-no for them, so Dana often used that tactic as a warning. He used the Remington only to fire duds. They didn’t want to hear the sound of his A5 special, which was no doubt already in his expert hands.
Brian held up the picture, looking at each man. Silent. Deadly.
Everyone was quiet. The tattoo shop owner took his bat and pointed up the street. “If I’d known that’s why you were out here, I would’ve shut this shit down a long time ago.”
“Stay out of this, Chuck.”
“Fuck you,” he said to Balls. “This is my neighborhood, too. And Grossman’s meth addicts have robbed both our shops. Can’t believe you’d defend them, Mac.” Tattoo turned back to Brian, still using his bat to point north. “They were at Han’s restaurant an hour ago. I don’t know what’s up. I can’t tell you the last time I seen John or Ray in this neighborhood. But if you’re here to get them the hell out, I’m happy to help.”
Now, why couldn’t everyone be model citizens like that? The Grossmans were a disease in their community. Stringing out men, women, and kids with their duped-up meth. Ray and John didn’t care as long as the money continued to flow. Ford nodded in thanks to tattoo guy and began to move away from the dispersing mob. He needed to contact Duke, but Ford didn’t dare turn his back until he was sure no one would sneak attack them.
When they were back on the main road, Brian’s hands start moving fast, angrily. “What the hell were you thinking?! You want to get into a street fight… NOW! Ford, you got to get yourself under—” Brian’s cell rang, cutting off his berating.
Ford frowned. It was Dana using the CB technology on his cell. Why wasn’t he using the earpiece or the watch to communicate? Ford thought again. Dana hadn’t communicated with him at all during the whole ordeal. None of them had.