What was I thinking—bringing a woman out here with us? My head needed to be examined. There's just something about her that I'd never experienced before. Out of all the women I'd been with, none were like Veronica.
She wiggled in her seat as we drove down Ortega Highway, taking every turn hard and fast. My heart skipped a beat as Veronica's hand crept over onto my lap. She was frightened but loving it. I was loving it too.
Hudson opened the gate leading to Jensen Ranch. It was the perfect place to conduct our business—private property and nobody could hear us for miles. We rode up the hill on the uneven dirt and came to the ranch.
A brown dilapidated barn with rotted wood sat in the middle of a valley surrounded by overgrown trees. Two black Escalades were parked in front of the barn and four men dressed in dark suits were holding assault rifles at their sides. Veronica hugged me tighter.
I parked my Mustang a good distance away and got out. “Stay here,” I told Veronica. She had the deer-in-the-headlights look. “Don't worry, everything will be fine.”
I turned my back towards the Russians and pulled out my nine millimeter. Veronica's eyes widened. She probably had never seen a gun before. I pulled out the clip to make sure it was loaded and jammed it back inside. I lifted my shirt up and placed it in my waistband.
“What do you need that for,” she asked.
“Insurance.”
“Be careful, Gunner,” she said.
“I always am,” I replied.
We approached the Russians and Wyatt took the lead.
“How's it going, Boris?” Wyatt shook the nicely-dressed Russian's hand.
“Could use a bottle of vodka,” he replied in a thick accent.
“Show us the goods,” Wyatt ordered.
“What, no small talk?”
“Let's just get this over with.”
Boris shrugged. “Money first.”
Wyatt turned towards Hudson who threw a huge black duffel bag at the feet of the Russians. One of the goons bent over and unzipped the bag, revealing stacks of cash.
“Looks good, boss,” he said to Boris.
“Let's get down to business then.” Wyatt followed Boris to the back of one of the Escalades. They popped the trunk and Wyatt examined the guns.
A reflection caught the corner of my eye. I looked to the right and saw light reflecting off a small circle off into the woods. That could only be one thing.
“Everyone down!” I yelled. My brothers dropped to the floor as I pulled out my gun. A sniper shot echoed through the air, the bullet burrowing into the dirt in front of me. I pointed my gun at one of the Russian goons and fired two shots off, hitting him square in the face and neck—blood sprayed in an arc, covering the Escalade behind him.
Another Russian started firing at John with his assault rifle. John rolled out of the way and fired back with his pistol, hitting the goon in the stomach.
I ran to a fallen tree for cover just as the second sniper shot went off, narrowly missing my leg.
Hudson pulled a sawed-off shotgun from behind his back and blew away the third Russian, sending him flying into the barn.
I aimed my gun at Boris but not before he took out a giant knife and sliced Wyatt's neck right in front of me. I walked out from behind the tree, screaming Wyatt's name. I unloaded my entire clip into Boris, tearing his body apart.
A rifle shot went off behind me and I swung around to see Bryce behind his car—two shots and the sniper was dead.
I walked over to Wyatt and fell to my knees. He was already dead. Tears filled my eyes.
“We need to get out of here,” Bryce howled. Hudson yanked my arm until I was back on my feet. I snapped back to reality and ran to my car. Veronica cowered behind my Mustang, shivering.
“Are you okay, baby?” I asked. I bent over and checked her for any wounds. There was no blood that I could see.
She nodded and stood up.
“We need to go. Everything is going to be all right.”