Rough Company by R. A. McGee

Author:R. A. McGee [McGee, R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Darewood Press
Published: 2018-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

“That just happened? Are you kidding me? Is this real right now?” Cat said. She chirped the tires on the BMW and skidded out of the fast food parking lot.

“Slow down,” Porter said. “Those guys are long gone. The last thing I want to do is survive an ambush and get smoked in a car crash.”

“Yeah, slow down. Are you hitting every single bump?” Badway said from the back seat. He was flat on his stomach, bent at the knees so he could fit.

“Shut up back there and try not to bleed in my car,” Cat said.

“Where’s your compassion? The person who pays you has been shot in the back,” Porter said.

“In the woods, you said it was just shrapnel. I operate on the assumption you two meatheads know what’s going on. A little piece of scrap metal in the back isn't getting sympathy,” Cat said.

“Tough crowd,” Badway said.

“Where am I going?” Cat said.

“Badway’s.”

“No, Porter, that’s dumb. Don’t the people who shot at us know where he lives?”

“We gotta patch Sarge up, keep him from bitching anymore. Not to mention I’d like to get my rifle,” Porter said. “Told you I’d need it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Cat said, and fell silent.

Out of the corner of his eye, Porter saw her hand trembling on the steering wheel. The dump of adrenaline from the ambush had worn off and she was coming down.

“You okay?” Porter said.

“No, I’m bleeding back here,” Badway said.

“I was talking to her.”

“Not even close,” Cat said. “I mean… we haven’t even talked about Kevon. He’s dead? Just like that?”

“Looks like it,” Porter said. “Vance said he’d make sure Kevon never saw his son again. At least he’s a man of his word.”

“We have to go to the police,” Cat said. “We have to tell them what happened.”

“Tell them what? We think a guy killed another guy? That’s not probable cause to arrest Vance. Besides, I’d be willing to bet Badway’s nightclub that Vance has a great alibi. Unless you know who was pulling the trigger, it’s gonna be tough to get the cops on your side.” Porter adjusted his shirt around his pistol.

“You have Kevon’s license. That’s proof,” Cat said, deftly slipping the BMW between traffic.

“We both know that won’t work.”

“So we let those guys win? Get away with murder?”

“Not at all, but we need to get our shit together. Game plan. Get more guns.”

Cat assented, pushing the BMW even faster along the road. Sooner than Porter believed possible, she was pulling off the highway and onto the main road that ran in front of the Bump House.

Porter pulled his pistol out of its holster and held it, muzzle down, between his legs. “Don’t park yet. Circle around a couple times.”

The lawyer looped around the block several times, keeping a slow pace.

“You see anything?” Badway said, voice muffled by the seat.

“I don’t think so. If they’re here, they’re sneaky as hell.” He nodded at Cat, who pulled behind the club in between Badway's shiny new Ford and next to Porter’s disrespected SUV.

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