Page 49 of Iron Will

It makes sense. Los Caballeros are supposed to be their allies — the two groups a united front to keep their territory away from Sinaloa. But allies are only as good as the deal you’ve made with them.

And if an ally sees a better deal somewhere else…

Then the line between ally and enemy gets real thin, real fast.

“So. What are our options here?” Axel demands. “We need this shipment, Chaco. You don’t hold up your end of the deal, we get screwed on our end.”

Tension in the room heightens. From an outlaws’ gentleman’s agreement, we’re going down the road to something totally different. The Lords of Carnage can’t afford to let this shit slide. Our own dominance, the strength of our club, depends on other clubs knowing we cannot be fucked with.

“We have another contact.” Chaco’s words are clipped. “We need an extra day. But we will get you the entire volume of the shipment. Our drop point will change, but you can be assured — “

A muffled shout outside interrupts his words.

Then, a deafening blast.

Gunfire.

“Get down!” Axel shouts. I dive for the ground, just as the thin wood of the closed door splinters like toothpicks. Jesus. I barely have time to reach for my piece when another volley of gunfire blasts through it. Rolling off to one side, I pull it out and grab the base of a small table, pulling it down until it crashes to the floor. I push it in front of me to serve as a shield. It’s not enough to cover me, but it’s all I got.

Raising my gun, I fire off a round at the door. I’ve only got one goddamn magazine, so I have to make each bullet count. By now, my ears are roaring with all the blasts around me. I hear a couple of cries through the wall of sound, but I can’t tell who’s being hit, or where. A couple of Chaco’s men had ARs, but shit’s happening so fast I don’t know where they are now. Across the room Mal is aiming toward the door, rapid flashes of fire from his gun showing me his shots.

We’re sitting fucking ducks in this room, unless we can blast ourselves out.

My mind goes into survival mode as I pull myself into a crouch and prepare to move. Just before I spring, my eyes fall on a wad of gum smushed under the table I’m hiding behind.

For some reason, that makes me laugh out fucking loud.

Reaching behind me, I grab the metal leg of a chair in my left hand, and stand up. I pull myself against the wall, just on one side of the doorway, and try to trust that Dos Santos’ men and my brothers’ aims are good enough not to hit me instead of whoever’s on the other side.

When the first asshole manages to make it through and into the room, I bring the chair up and around, smashing him in the skull before he knows what’s happening. He falls to the floor and the guy behind him stumbles over him. His piece flies out of his hands, ricocheting off my boot. I use two of my bullets to take them both out, then grab the dropped gun, a Glock 19 with an extended mag.Good fuckin’ deal.

Mal and Axel are up now, too, guns drawn. Chaco’s two bodyguards appear behind us, then move ahead, unleashing a spray of fire. We move in and prepare to follow their lead.

But then, a loud shot behind me stops me in my tracks.

I pivot quickly, just in time to see Chaco fall to the ground. One of the two men next to him holds a gun at his side, finger still on the trigger.

Holy fuck. At least one of Chaco’s men has turned.

I lift my eyes just in time to see the other guy raise his piece toward us. Instinctively, I throw the the chair I’m still holding toward him, launching it through the air without time to aim. It’s enough to make him duck, which gives me a couple seconds to launch myself at him. I barrel forward, and just before I connect, a dull wave of pressure on my upper thigh pushes me a little to one side.

Fuck,I think as I take the fucker down.I’m shot.

There’s no time to think about it. I hear more gunfire and shouting, but I wrestle the asshole I’ve got to the ground and grab his wrist. As he tries to kick me off of him, I bring his hand down repeatedly against the floor until his grip loosens on the gun. When he’s let go of it, I pull back and fire a hard right to his face with the butt of my gun. It gets him in the jaw, sending him reeling. A second punch to his temple takes him out.

I scramble up, but my left leg starts to crumple under me. I reach back to my upper thigh and feel around. Wet. The fabric of my jeans is ripped just below my ass cheek.

I roll onto my side, angling myself to face the door, and get ready to fire. Next to me, Chaco’s breathing is labored, blood blooming a stain across his shirt. Ten feet away, Dante’s got the other traitor on the ground. I start to raise my gun, hoping to get a clear shot. But before I can, there’s a loud crack. The guy Dante’s wrestling stiffens, then his body falls slack.

Have a good trip to hell, motherfucker.

It’s only in the seconds after Dante shoots the second traitor that I realize the gunfire outside has stopped. I haul myself to my feet, favoring my left leg. The wound is burning now, and my ass is starting to go numb, but the leg itself is at least supporting my weight.

Dante calls over to me. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I lift my chin toward Chaco. “We gotta get him some help.”

I raise my gun and consider shooting the asshole I knocked out, but figure we’re better off getting as much information out of him as we can before ending him. Limping, I go to the doorway and yell out for Axel. His voice comes back a second later.