Ruthless by Gillian Archer

Author:Gillian Archer [Archer, Gillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-04-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Zag

The minute Zag turned the corner on Preacher’s street he knew the bastard wasn’t home. The driveway was empty with no bike in sight, and his house was dark. Not that it hampered Zag’s momentum.

The second he brought his bike to a stop on Preacher’s driveway, he was off it and heading to the front door. He didn’t even wait for backup.

Or knock.

Zag lifted his boot-clad foot and slammed it through the front door with a crash.

“Preacher! Where are you, you bastard?” The lack of a reply had his blood boiling. He wanted to make Preacher bleed like Bobby was bleeding. Wanted to make him as terrified as Jess had been. He remembered her pale face as she pulled up to his house, and he lost it.

He put his fist through the flat screen on the wall, but that wasn’t good enough. Sliding his arm across the cabinet beneath, he cleared all the tapes and picture frames with a huge crash. Still pissed off, he grabbed the back of the cabinet and tipped it over. Then he ripped the TV down from the wall, turned, and heaved it in the general direction of the opposite window.

“Holy fuck, Zag.” Reb ducked out of the way of the projectile just in time. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Zag bent down and grabbed a stereo speaker that’d fallen out of the cabinet. It went through the window with a satisfying crash. “Preacher’s not here. That’s what’s fucking wrong with me.”

Reb ducked again as the other speaker went sailing past. “Dammit, man. Knock that shit off.”

Zag glared at him. “Fuck you.”

“Hey, you got a problem with me, bring it.”

Finally, an outlet for all this rage inside him. Zag took a step forward to do just that.

Reb held up his hands. “But. Not. Here.”

“Fuck, why not? Preacher’s not home. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Not if your little hissy fit convinced the neighbors to call the cops. We gotta ride. Now.”

“Fine. Let’s take the fight to the Tramps. I bet Preacher is hiding behind their fucking skirts.”

Zag headed for the front door, but Reb pulled him up short.

“No.” Reb grabbed his arm.

“No? What the fuck do you mean, no?” Zag shook off Reb’s grip on his arm. “He was on our turf. He knocked out Bobby. And terrorized Jess. I’m in the mood for a little payback.”

“Not tonight. We’re not going in all hotheaded. You’re going to incite a fucking war and get guys killed.”

“I can handle it.” Zag wanted to make Preacher and all those fucking Tramps bleed. They didn’t deserve the air they breathed, and he was sure as hell gonna make sure a few were six feet under by the end of the night.

“No, you can’t. You’re all hyped up and someone’s gonna get killed. We gotta do this smart. You’re sergeant at arms, goddamn it. Start acting like it.”

“Fuck you.”

The muscle in Reb’s jaw flexed. “I’ve given you a lot of leeway because of who you are, but you’re seriously fucking making me regret it.

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