Of course it had to be one of those old bathrooms that curved around a tiled bend, the kind that didn't let you see anything without walking straight inside.
Somebody's footstep scraped the floor and a man cleared his throat.
“Carbon?” I yelled softly, staying just behind the corner. “Is that you? I'm ready to get out of here whenever you're –“
The man burst out from around the corner and tackled me to the ground. Before I could even scream, I hit my head on the concrete floor so hard my ears rang. He dragged me by the legs, and in the blinding pain, I couldn't even think to fight him.
My legs wouldn't kick. My hands wouldn't claw at the ground. He swung me around the corner, kneed me in the spine, and began tying my hands behind my back.
I caught a flash of several other devilish looking bastards in neat black work shoes, their cruel faces smiling. Each one wore the same small golden dragon head on their lapels.
I managed to scream for a solid second before the Chinese mobster clapped his hand across my mouth. Cold, deadly steel pushed against the length of my back, making me shudder.
“Scream again and we'll cut you open like your friend.” He turned my head harshly, pointing it toward the dirty stall with its door swung half open.
Oh, God.
I recognized Carbon's thick riding boots unnaturally touching the ground. Blood pooled out beneath his body where they'd laid it on the toilet, a thick, red stream that could only be coming from his stomach.
He wasn't moving. He had to be –
Shit. I sobbed against the asshole's hand, and the blade of the knife dug deeper into my back, one more ounce of pressure away from doing everything he promised.
“Just try my patience again, bitch. You got my brother killed. You're coming with us to talk to Zee, and you'll tell us everything you know before we rip your whore throat out.”
Behind him, the other two laughed. They whispered several words in thick, angry Chinese, the last thing I heard before the pounding in my head caused me to black out.
Save your energy, brother Zhao. She'll have a heart attack when she sees what we've done to her idiot father.
X: Crusade (Asphalt)
“Gone? What the fuck you talking about?” I sat up in my chair, looking across the desk at Blackjack.
Roman's hands instantly fell on my shoulders, trying to keep me from getting outta line.
I shot him a nasty look. Fuck him, and fuck anyone who got in my way!
If somebody had really taken Elle Jo, like the Prez just told me, then I'd punch a hole through the entire fucking earth to get her back.
“A small strike team, no doubt, probably sent up here just for her.” The Prez folded his hands neatly and looked at me, his dark eyes shining. “You deserved to know since she's your old lady, son, and we're going to bring her back. That's why I brought you here.”
“You're damned right we will!” I growled, shrugging off Roman before he could get a death grip on me. “We oughta be loading up and hitting the road to Portland right now, for fuck's sake. No delay. What difference is a few hours early gonna make?”
“Not so simple,” Blackjack snapped. “There's heavy storms rolling through just south of us now. The Tacoma men need time to mourn their prospect, at least a few hours to shake off the shock.”
They'd found Carbon completely gutted at the same park where I'd truly owned my girl for the first time. He seemed like a good man, but I couldn't care about that shit right now.
I couldn't be fucked to think about anything except where my woman was, and what the bastards who had her were doing. That fucking animal I'd beaten to a bloody pulp in the storage container had been about to force himself on her, tarnish what was mine and only mine.
My blood seethed like a volcano. I was about half a second from going thermonuclear, blowing the fuck up, and coating the Prez and the Enforcer with my own bloody gore.
“Let me do whatever it'll take to get us there faster,” I said, feeling like a hero for offering them a diplomatic way out.
Just let me get my girl, assholes, I thought. Then we'll all walk away satisfied.
“Can't let you do that, son.” Blackjack shifted in his seat, slicking back his long gray hair while he tugged out a smoke from his pocket. He offered me one, and I shook my head.
The man didn't speak 'til he took his first long pull and blew it high into the air. “Roman.”
When I saw the giant walk to the door, cover it with his body, and stand there with his arms folded like the Berlin fucking Wall, I knew the next shit rolling outta the Prez's mouth was bound to be bad.
“This club's at war, about to go off to fight the most serious battle it's faced since the Mexicans. If we play our cards right, it'll be the last fight we face for a good, long while. We'll bring Elle Jo home safe, and whatever's left of Gil. We'll murder every single Black Dragon in our sights.”