Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Alright, send him this way, and we’ll send ours.” Eagle-eye crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Rocco until he looks away. “Take your time. Don’t want anyone getting twitchy.”
The hostages start their march across the open space between us, walking steadily. There’s an eagerness in Killjoy’s step despite his limp. Joker walks proudly, like this was his idea all along. Melody isn’t exactly dragging her feet, but it’s obvious this isn’t what she wants. She and Joker exchange a look as they pass each other, but his is hard to read and I can’t see her face. I think she says something to him, but it’s too quiet for me to hear, and then the moment is over.
Killjoy takes a moment to veer toward Joker, and leans in to say something. Whatever it was, it pisses him off. With a muffled roar, Joker charges Killjoy with a shoulder tackle that knocks him right on his ass. Joker follows up with hard kicks to his side and head. Fuck.
Melody veers hard left, glancing over her shoulder at what’s going on just long enough for me to see the fear in her eyes. Clutch comes out to meet her, putting himself between her and the fight. He guides her away, out of the line of fire. At least she’s fucking safe.
Devil’s Brigade members rush forward to protect Killjoy, and then we’re rushing in to pull Joker the fuck outta there before someone kills the bastard. And then it’s all fucking chaos. A couple guys pull Joker back, others pull Killjoy back to his feet, but then someone throws a fucking punch, and all hell breaks loose.
This was going so fucking well too.
Even with his hands bound, Joker is a force to be reckoned with. He throws his head back and nails the guy holding him in the face, sending him reeling and spurting blood. Shadow and a Brigade member tug Killjoy in opposite directions, but Bear is on his way to settle that argument.
A different member throws a punch at Joker’s unprotected gut, but I capture his fist before he gets that far. “No fucking with our property. Take your guy and get the fuck outta here.”
It devolves into a fucking brawl. A guy swings for me. I block it, but then another guy barrels into him, and I fucking swear that’s another Brigade member. What the fuck is happening? Why are they fighting each other?
Rebel flips one over his shoulder, but Riptide takes a fist to the face as another grabs his cut long enough to distract him. I capture the arms of the guy who punched him and throw him back into the crowd. As more and more members on both sides throw themselves into it, keeping track is getting harder.
“Where’s Joker?” I yell. He’s the one we need.
A car starts on the other side of the brawl, but as long as they’re not gonna use it to barrel through the crowd, the least of my worries is someone getting away. Unless it’s fucking Joker.
Riptide, working his jaw after the punch, points. “Over there.”
Joker, cuffs hanging loose off one wrist, his gag gone, is wrestling one of the Devil’s Brigade members to the ground, throwing him down with so much force that I hear his head crack on the asphalt from back here. Another one throws himself at him, but is forced to the side by yet another attacker.
We’ve been pulled into a fucking civil war.
I punch and wrestle my way toward Joker, flanked by Riptide and Rebel. I don’t fucking care what happens internally in the Devil’s Brigade, but we promised Melody to keep Joker as safe as we can, and we can’t do that if her father manages to fucking kill himself because he’s got some kinda revenge fantasy going on.
“Come on!” I shove a fucker to the side. Rebel slams his fist into another, who goes down like he just learned what gravity is. Riptide spins a guy with so much force that he trips and rolls down the asphalt behind us.
Wait. Who the fuck gave Joker a gun?
Two Brigade members have Rocco by the arms, holding him still, while he yells in panic. “Fucking help me! Goddamn traitors!”
Joker’s mouth twists into a victorious grin, a trail of blood sliding down his chin from his mouth. He points the gun at Rocco’s head.
Fuck.
“Clutch was right. You shoulda killed me while you had the chance.”
Joker pulls the trigger.
31
REBEL
Rocco falls in slow motion, the gunshot still echoing around us. Straight through the face and out the back of his head, the bullet tears through him, killing him instantly. Blood sprays over the asphalt, but by the time it lands, Rocco’s already a heap at Joker’s feet.
The silence right afterwards is deafening. Everyone stops what they’re doing and goes for cover instead. With all of us out in the fucking open, that’s not where you wanna be when the bullets start flying.