One second, I was aiming at the old whore so I could give her a taste of pain before we got down to business, and the next, I’m bulldozed sideways as I pull the trigger, my head bouncing off the ground like a crash dummy.

What the fuck?!

A heavy body lands on me, and then a jaw-crunching blow hits my face, which feels like a sledge hammer has tried to take my head off. I’m left dazed and disorientated in the dirt.

I was pissed before, but now I’m fucking furious. Rage has me twisting about on the ground, trying to see what the fuck just happened.

From the flat-on-my-back position I’m in, I’m trying to focus on the female I shot and the other threat that blindsided me. I can just make out she’s struggling with a big guy. I slowly get to my feet, swaying all over the place like a goddamn drunk fool, when I’m hit hard from the back, my skull taking the full brunt.

For fuck’s sake, you gotta be kidding me.

I go down like a sack of potatoes and the lights turn out.

There are two or three of them.

My mind’s playing tricks on me; it has to be. I thought I heard Edge’s voice, and now I’m fighting with somebody.

Boxer’s training slams back into me. I connect my palm with my attacker’s nose, shoving it up as hard as I can. I hear a satisfactory crack and grunt come from my assailant, but before I can do another thing to save myself, a hard blow lands to my stomach, winding me, and another lands on my cheekbone in a classic one-two punch, and everything goes into slow motion. My head whips to the left and I go down hard on my side as the air is seriously knocked out of me. I’m gasping for oxygen like a fish out of water.

I lie wriggling about on the ground, trying to breathe, trying to calm the panic within me that wants to surface, but I know I need to get back up on my feet.

I command my body to listen and do as I tell it to. My inner tiger has emerged, and I won’t be going down without giving it my best shot. Even with the agonizing pain in my left shoulder, my determination to survive outweighs everything else. I got attacked and I need to escape.

I push to my feet, not really in my right mind, because my body is on fire. My inner tiger is trying not to give up, but I’m feeling a little wonky and a lot woozy.

“Fuck’s sake, lady, just stay down.” The powerful entity has a voice. Boohoo to him. It sounds like I’m annoying this guy. I swing my fist in a ridiculous attempt at hurting him. He sidesteps my fist, grabs me around the neck, and strongholds me until I’m left gasping for the small amount of air I’d been allowing my body.

If I could have cried out, I would have, but nothing left my lips. I simply go limp from lack of oxygen until I feel myself passing out.

So much for my inner tiger.

I come to on the ground, slowly opening my eyes and trying to get the stars to stop swirling about like I’m looking through a kaleidoscope. Once I can see clearly, I assess my current situation and what has happened since I blacked out.

I never black out.

What. The. Fuck?!

A car has been reversed up, approximately ten yards from where I lie, and there’s one guy carrying my revenge kill, dropping her into the trunk of his car.

I don’t think so. That’s my body he thinks he’s walking away with. Why is he so interested in my slut?

I quietly get to my feet while he’s busy with the body, and I get ready for another fistfight, because the cocksucker has stripped me of my weapons. Then I see the second guy standing by a tree, puffing on a cigar, dressed up like a 1950’s gangster, full pinstriped suit and fedora with a hankie, who’s holding a flashlight.

What a fucking clown.

I’m not quite with it because of that blow to my head, but it now makes sense why I was taken unaware the second time. Why has my old whore garnered this much attention? What’s the busy bitch been up to? Ripping somebody else off, no doubt. Call me curious, because I know these fools could have killed me. I would have killed me, but they left me alive for a reason.

I should just walk away.

But fuck, now I want to lay my eyes on her and see what all the body snatching is about.

I come up behind the guy who’s about to pull the trunk down. He’s more a run of the mill thug. Jeans, boots, jacket, nothing that stands out in a crowd…not like Bugsy. Naturally, he hears my approach, because I’m not doing a great job of being quiet, probably something to do with nearly having my brains smashed out of my head.

I’m a little off kilter. It happens.

Bugsy Malone isn’t at all perturbed by my advancing on them, so he just keeps right on smoking his cigar.

Trunk guy turns around cool as a cucumber, a handgun with a silencer attached pointed at my head. “Ah-ah-aahhh. Whatever you were thinking, buddy, I wouldn’t.” It comes out all nasally, because he’s copped a broken nose from the whore. He’s even uglier now. Looks like the only job he could sign up for was thug, because he ain’t got anything else going for him. You would have to be blind to want to fuck him. “We know you are a Soulless Bastard. We aren’t going to mess with one of theirs, so make our life easy and play nice.”

What the fuck? They’ve been following me?

“We’ve been following her. Not you.” Then he shrugs at me. “Well, we’ve been tracking you. We knew where you were going when you left Albuquerque; we just used one as a precaution in case we lost you. We slapped one on your bike before you left. We had to make sure you got the letter and then headed on out. We don’t want any trouble, so we’ll take it from here. Think yourself fortunate; she’s now out of your hands.”

Who is this dickhead, and what the fuck is he yabbering on about?

I rub the back of my head, which is hurting like a family of flash grenades have gone off in it, and my fingers come away a sticky, dirt-clogged mess, and that just makes my patience non-existent. “What the fucking hell are you talking about?” I growl out to these motherfuckers, who are trying to walk off with my kill.

He just keeps on talking. “You were the one who was aiming to snuff the chick out.” He shrugs casually again. “My boss wants her alive. William Dupré owes him…big. You would do well to keep your nose out of this and just walk away, my friend. We got no beef with you. We’re just the delivery boys, and we want no trouble. We’ve got a job to do, same as you do.”

I move slowly to the trunk, holding up my palms to show I’m not going to try anything. I want to know who he’s fucking talking about, because my brain is off on its own merry-go-round at the moment and nothing’s making any goddamn sense. “I just want to see why my father decided she was worth his time.”

The gun’s still pointed at my head, but I know he won’t shoot me. His orders aren’t to kill me.

“You fucked her, so you should know why. Did you just say father?” Then he starts laughing. “Hey, Benny boy, this is William’s son. This keeps getting better and better. We got ourselves some father and son action.” Bugsy Malone decides to come around and join our little shindig.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” How did they not know I’m the son of William Dupré, if they made sure the letter was in my possession? They are just the delivery boys, as they stated, so their boss must not deem them high enough to know all the details. That means there may be another party involved issuing orders.