Will didn’t move as he approached. “I’ll count to five. One…”

Two of the men laughed at each other. Smiles spread to the rest, including the man with the bun. The leader turned to look at them in amusement before he looked back at Will. “Are we children who did not finish our vegetables?”

“Two.”

Christ, what does he think he’s doing? Eva’s heart raced as she grasped at the wall in anxious agony.

“Three.”

“I do not think this cowboy understands what’s going on here, gentlemen,” said the Latino leader. As if that was some cue, two of the men shifted and started taking off their jackets.

Eva saw Charlie stiffen at the bar, his hands dropping down, shaking as they waited for the cue to grab the gun.

“Four.” Will still hadn’t moved. He stared at the leader, unflinching.

“I’m bored with this,” said the Latino leader. He took a few steps back and flicked his hand. The two men who had taken off their jackets revealed thick, hulking arms under tight black shirts, and now they both stalked toward Will with murderous intent.

A scream got caught in Eva’s throat as she felt her heart stop.

Underneath it all, she heard Will say quietly: “Five.”

The leader hadn’t moved back far enough. Will’s first strike sent stiff, sharp fingertips right into the gullet of his throat. Instantly the man gasped for breath through his pinched windpipe. Wooden floorboards creaked underneath him as he crashed to his knees, hands clawing at his throat, gulping in panicked fear like a fish pulled from a lake. The man in the bun started yelling in angry, rapid Spanish and bent to uselessly try and help his comrade with his one healthy arm.

The two hulking brutes didn’t stop advancing on Will. A glint of silver appeared in his left hand, and then suddenly he was leaping toward one of them, slashing as the man stopped in surprise. He yelped as Will’s knife connected with his skin, cutting through the pathetic layer of his black t-shirt and opening big, if superficial, slices of skin across his muscular chest and upper arms. The man stumbled backward, grasping at himself as blood began to gush from the wounds and drip onto the floor.

The second thug used the moment to sweep behind Will and wrap his enormous arms around him in a clenching bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides. Will howled and thrashed like a trapped wolf, kicking his legs wildly, knocking over the tall round bar tables he could reach, but unable to get any leverage.

Thinking Will was trapped, Charlie fumbled for the shotgun and brought it out from under the bar just as Will took a daring risk and brought the knife in his left hand down hard into the thigh of the man who held him, barely missing his own leg in the tussle. The man screamed and released Will, who instantly ducked and twisted away from his captor until they faced each other.

The thug pulled the knife out of his leg with a trembling, bloody hand and growled at Will like an animal as he spun it in his unsteady hand to wave around as a threat. But before he could do anything with it, Will drew back and delivered a forceful punch to his face, hard enough that Eva heard cracking and felt the jolt run up her own bones as she huddled in fright.

The thug fell hard to the floor on his back, head lolling around on the floor as he fought to stay conscious. Will stalked up to him and hovered over him ominously.

Behind the bar, Charlie anxiously swept the barrel of the shotgun back and forth. The other Latino men began to yell in protest, and the one with the slashed chest advanced on him, trying to help his fallen brother.

Charlie cocked the shotgun, and its unmistakable sound made everyone in the room freeze and take notice—everyone except Will.

Eva watched with wide, horrified eyes as Will stood over the incapacitated man with a darkness on his face she had never seen before. Will looked at him for a few heavy seconds that seemed to drag on for eternity. Then Eva saw him lifting up the shirt on his right side, where he kept his concealed handgun holster.

No… no… no…

The Latino men saw what was happening, too, and they started screaming at Will in angry voices, in both Spanish and English. With Charlie’s shotgun on them, they were helpless to intervene.

Will stared at the man as if he was in a trance, drawing the silver handgun from its holster and aiming it steadily, right at his face.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” said Will, so quietly that Eva wasn’t sure how she even heard him over the frightened din.

The protests only grew when Will pulled back the barrel and loaded the gun. Before she realized what she was doing, Eva jumped to her feet and rushed into the bar room, calling his name desperately.

“Don’t!” she screamed, her hands up as she reached him, stopping on the other side of the injured man and staring at Will. Everyone in the room turned to look at her in surprise.

“Eva, get the fuck out of here!” yelled Charlie.

She ignored him, focusing only on Will as he stared down at his victim. “Will, don’t do this! You don’t have to kill him!”

Like he was being pulled out of a trance, Will dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “Eva, what the fuck are you doing?”

Tears stung her eyes as she pointed to the man on the floor. “You don’t have to kill him, Will! He’s out!”

“You don’t understand a fucking thing,” he snarled. The gun in his hand didn’t move, didn’t shake.

Fury and desperation built up in Eva’s chest as she met his eyes, and saw the raging dark storm inside his mind. She didn’t know why she said what she said next, didn’t know why in a million years it was the first thing that popped into her head, but the words tumbled from her mouth in desperation anyway.

“Anger’s my meat; I sup upon myself, and so shall starve with feeding.”

The room fell quiet, save for the panicked breathing of the injured and threatened men. Everyone’s eyes flitted from Will, to Eva, and back again, trying to decipher what was happening between them.

Will froze, staring into her eyes. She could see something changing. She could see something washing over him. The gun in his hand started to tremble. His breathing came wet and shallow.

Will began to blink and blink, like he was waking up. He stared at Eva a few moments more, then looked down at the man on the floor, sinking in and out of unconsciousness as Will threatened to make it permanent.

Eva felt every muscle in her body let go when Will finally lowered his arm.

Will didn’t fully turn to the men, but only bent his head enough that they knew he was talking to them. His voice was deep, black with promises of death. “Get out.”

The Latino men didn’t move at first, instead staring nervously at Charlie. Charlie only shook his head at them. “What he said. I’ll give you five more seconds to get out.”

They didn’t deny the invitation a second time. The man in the bun and the man with the slashed chest did their best to awkwardly carry the man from the floor out to the SUV. The leader, still huffing to retrieve his breath, gave the three of them a heavy, incredulous look, one hand still cradling his throat where Will had struck him. He said nothing as he followed his men out into the daylight and disappeared.

~ THIRTEEN ~

Will had never felt frozen like he did now. The weight of the handgun hung at the end of his arm, heavy and unsatisfied. He watched those motherfuckers stumble out the door, all four of them still breathing, still in one piece. Their blood on his blade wasn’t enough. They owed him life.

If anyone had asked Will what he felt in that moment, he would have told them he was too angry to move. He didn’t realize that was possible, or what it could even feel like, but he knew now. He knew he was a nuclear reactor on the verge of a meltdown, and if he even so much as stepped a foot toward Eva in that moment, he would explode and send them all into oblivion.