“I don’t want to do this,” I said as he started to crawl away. I grabbed his ankle and yanked him across the pavement. Davy’s hands scraped raw on the rough ground. “I really don’t.” I grabbed his coveralls straps again and jerked him closer. His breathing became ragged. “But you should have said yes.”
I cocked my fist and got ready to swing. I froze at the sound of a clicking hammer, and the feel of a cold gun barrel pressing against my temple.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to respect your elders?”
I grimaced, keeping hold of Davy as I slid my eyes to the right. Standing beside me with a steady hand, a cold expression, and fiery tawny eyes, was Davy’s supposed enforcer. Sawyer.
“You walked away once before,” I growled. “Better do so again if you still want to use your legs.”
The rogue grinned at my warning. “Guess I’ll have to take the risk. That’s my supplier you’re threatening.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not anymore. Get lost.”
He nudged my head with the pistol. “Might be a good idea to remember that I’ve got a gun.” Sawyer’s grin vanished. “Now let him go.”
I stared the marauder down the same way I would an opponent in the Crater. He must have seen my tattoo. He obviously knew that I was taller and outweighed him. And it didn’t seem like he cared. I didn’t know whether to be offended, or impressed.
I dropped Davy and rose to my full height. Sawyer’s eyes never left mine, and his gun only moved so he could keep it trained on my head.
“Smart man,” he said. “Now, this is what’s gonna happen. You’re going to take your own advice, and walk away while I still let you. Tell Ryland to back off once and for all, or the hell I’ll rain down on him will make The Storm look like a spring shower.”
I continued staring at him, trying to figure out just what his damn deal was. He acted like he was a captain himself, not a servant. Which was impossible. Like me, he would have been no older than ten during The Storm.
But as the seconds ticked by, he mentioned no master, no Clan. He pointed the gun at me with incredible arrogance and waited for me to comply.
Something I hated to do.
Nodding slowly, I held up my hands in defeat. Davy’s relieved sigh was louder than he probably intended. Sawyer didn’t move the gun, but his cocky smirk was back.
“Good Dog,” he taunted. “Now run back to your master and tell him if he has a problem he’d like to take up with Davy, he can crawl out of his hole and handle it himself. Unless he’s the bitch of your litter.”
If he hadn’t insulted me first, I would have smiled with him. Instead, I took a step back, then another, hands still raised.
Sawyer was so sure he’d been triumphant; he failed to see that I put myself in the most basic fighting stance. Worse for him, he underestimated just how long my reach was.
Too bad for him.
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