Tank's Property(33)

Blood covered his face and chest, the few guys he’d shot lying on the ground bleeding out. He’d lost track of Spike when a few guys have come after him. The sound of Tuck grunting had Tank looking at the other man and seeing the gunshot wound in his leg. But Tuck was a big fucker, and kept shooting, kept holding his own. Lucien and Malice were fighting a couple of guys over by the pool table, the green felt splattered with blood.

“Motherfucker,” Ruin hollered out right before the sound of flesh hitting flesh rang through.

Tank threw a punch at the guy he was fighting, the asshole looking like he was about he was ready to keel over. But Tank wasn’t done with him yet, not when he was still standing.

“Fuck you,” the guy spit out, blood and spittle spraying from his mouth.

“Fuck me?” Tank said in a harsh voice. “No, fuck you, motherfucker.” Tank reared his hand back and slammed his knuckles into the guy’s face so hard his head snapped back and cracked against the wall. He was out cold, and just as he was about to shoot the asshole a bullet tore right through his arm. He clenched his teeth and turned around, feeling the burn from the bullet as it went right through. Standing no more than a few feet from him was one ugly motherfucker.

“I’m going to assume you’re Lila’s brother,” the fucker sneered out. “You resemble the cunt.” He charged forward before Tank could put the prick in his place with a bullet between his eyes. They slammed against the wall, grappling for supremacy. The guy wasn’t as big as Tank, but he had a bit of strength behind him. It wouldn’t matter because he’d be dead soon enough.

They punched, slammed each other around, and just when Tank thought he had the fucker right where he wanted him, just when he thought he could get a lethal shot in, someone cracked a beer bottle on the back of his head. Tank’s ears rang, and he turned and saw one of Spike’s men standing behind him right before the bastard cold cocked him. That was the last thing he remembered before he dropped to the floor.

****

Wrath was ready for any motherfucker that came into the room. He stood, his gun in hand, his focus on the bedroom door. He was relaxed, ready for anything. And then there was a gunshot ringing out, a bullet tore through the wood, and he felt the searing pain of it moving through his shoulder. But he gritted his teeth, held his stance, and trained his gun on who was about to come forward. Before he could fire off shots of his own the front door was kicked open, and some crazy asshole was charging forward with another prick following close behind, this war cry coming from them. They slammed back into the wall, and Wrath threw out a punch, connecting with the prick. The fight lasted several seconds, although the asshole had to be on something to have this kind of strength. He was also grunting, making off the wall comments between fighting, and Wrath knew a tweaker when he saw one.

He pushed Spike away, punched him in the face a couple of times, and glanced to where the other man was standing. He kept twitching, his eyes looking wild, and the knife in his hand hanging loosely at his side. Just as Wrath was about to pull the trigger Spike grinned and fired off another shot in Wrath’s leg.

Wrath grunted from the pain, but he stayed upright.

“Dirt, I’ll let you have some fun with this one. He’s looking like he might drop soon anyway.” Spike took a step back and the other man came forward. He was grinning, his teeth yellow, crooked.

Wrath felt the blood coming out at both gun wounds, but he’d had worse, and no way was he going to let some crazy motherfuckers hurt these women.

The man named Dirt charged forward, the dirty knife in his hand raised. He pushed Wrath up against the wall, his strength surprising given his frame, but then again Wrath was losing a lot of blood.

The fucker stabbed him in the side, but Wrath pushed him away before the blade went in fully. Wrath lifted his gun, his vision starting to double, and the feeling of blood freely coming from the gunshot wounds feeling warm before chilling.

“Time to let the darkness take you away,” Dirt said and laughed.

For one second that expression on the insane bastard’s face, and what he’d said, had Wrath stilling, had his body going in and out of consciousness.

No. I won’t let this fucker take me down.

It was as if they lifted their hands at the same time, Wrath holding his gun, and Dirt holding the knife. Dirt charged forward again, pushed Wrath up against the wall, but Wrath moved to the side just as the knife would have gone right into his gut. The blade slipped and plunged the blade into his outer thigh instead.

Wrath lifted his hand, gripped Dirt’s neck, and looked at the fucker in the eyes. He brought the gun to Dirt’s temple, and while still holding his stare pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang through the room, causing the baby to start to cry louder. Dirt fell to the ground, and Wrath pushed him away. He took a step closer, trying to go toward Spike, but his vision was so blurry now he couldn’t make out much. He fell to his knees, his whole body lighting up in pain. But he couldn’t go down like this. He looked up and saw Lila staring at him, her eyes wide, tears tracking down her cheeks.