Midnight Sun (45 page)

“
Lucky
for
you,
your
skull
is
softer
than
the
truck,
”
Mike
said to the moaning man.
“
You didn’t leave a dent.
”

Marcus
moved
around
the
driver
’
s
side
of
the
truck
and
swept
the
feet
out
from
under
another
gangster,
who
toppled
forward,
his
descent
accelerating
as
Marcus
gave
him
a
hard
shove
at
the
back
of
his
head.
The
man
’
s
face
smashed
against
the
fender,
his
nose
flattening
and
spraying
blood
onto
the
tire
and
the
gravel.

The
last
man,
standing
behind
the
gang
leader,
started
like
he
was
about
to
fight,
then
thought
better
of
it
and
dropped
to
knees
as
if
pleading
for
his
life.
Snake
stayed
frozen
to
the
ground,
Lonnie
’
s
pistol
still
trained
on
his
chest.

“
Your
friends
are
messed
up
and
you
’
re
outnumbered,
”
she
said,
“
now
what?
”

The
gang
leader
stared,
a
look
of
shock
in
his
eyes,
unsure
of
what
to
do.

Lonnie
grinned,
“
Looks
like
you
’
re
the
one
who
’
s
got
no
balls...Snake.
”

Marcus
stepped
in
front
of
the
man.
The
gang
leader
faced
him,
tightening
his
expression,
trying
to
pull
on
a
tough
gang
banger
mask
to
hide
the
obvious
terror
his
eyes
showed.
Before
he
could
move
to
protect
himself,
Marcus
’
s
fist
snapped
into
his
face,
flattening
his
nose
and
almost
instantly
blackening
his
eyes.
The
pistol
fell
from
the
man
’
s
hand
and
he
dropped
to
his
knees.
Blood
streamed
from
his
nostrils
like
water
from
a
spigot.

“
I
don
’
t
tolerate
some
punk
calling
my
wife
a
lesbian,
”
Marcus
growled,
“
and
nobody
threatens
her.
”

Marcus
snatched
the
pistol
from
the
ground.
Snake
made
no
move
to
stop
him.
Marcus,
a
gun
enthusiast
by
hobby,
recognized
the
model
of
the
weapon
right
away,
a
Smith
&
Wesson
M-39-2.
By
the
intricate
engraving,
he
could
tell
it
was
a
special
edition,
probably
worth
thousands
of
dollars.

“
And
just
where
did
you
get
a
piece
of
crap
like
this?
”
he
asked.

“
Pawn
shop,
”
Snake said.

“
Yeah,
right,
”
Marcus said.
“
You
don
’
t
even
know
what
you
’
ve
got,
moron.
”

“
You
’
ll
be
sorry
you
let
me
live,
”
Snake sputtered. Blood
droplets
arched
into
the
air
as
he
spoke,
the
words
came
out
nasal
and
suppressed.

Marcus
glared
down
at
him.
Snake
’
s
expression
verifying
that
he
regretted
what
he
’
d
just
said.

“
I
can
change
that,
”
Marcus
jammed
the
butt
of
the
pistol
into
the
side
of
Snake
’
s
head.
The
tough
guy
let
out
a
short
whimper
and
dropped
to
the
ground
with
a
heavy
thump,
like
a
side
of
meat
dropped
to
the
butcher's
room
floor.