Brian growled and yanked harder, making the fighter in his arms grunt, but he didn’t cry out. Brian might not have believed a word these drug dealers were saying but the one he was holding was a warrior. Men who grew up on the streets didn’t fight like that. A soldier was able to recognize another soldier. If this guy was military, which Brian believed he was because Marines loved to use that throat clutch—then he was disgusted the man had disgraced his uniform by becoming a petty gang thug.
As if his rival understood Brian’s thoughts, he spoke two words that had Brian releasing him immediately. “Delta Force?”
Brian jerked back out of reach, flipping his blade under in a Kendo fighting style, while keeping his arm extended. It was a clear warning not to advance again.
His challenger turned around and searched Brian’s eyes. Cold, hard, gray ones met his own. A silent exchange was made. A truce. An understanding only another veteran would understand. Brian tucked his knife away and the Marine did the same with his.
“Repeat that, Free.” The nerd said, holding his ear again. He jerked up, surprised by whatever he’d just heard. “He’s Brian King. He’s ex Special Forces… and a damn bounty hunter. Duke’s bounty hunter.”
The thugs all grumbled angrily, tucking their weapons away. Right on cue, Ford’s big pickup skidded and stopped at the entrance to the lot. His brother jumped out the driver’s seat before it even came to a complete stop. Dana was close behind, barreling past the four men and straight towards Brian.
Ford’s worried eyes roamed Brian’s body in seconds, cataloging injuries. When he saw the gash and the slight bruise on Brian’s jaw, Ford turned around and glared at the four men who stood watching with guilty expressions.
“Why didn’t you fuckin’ identify yourself man,” Tattoos frowned.
“He’s mute,” The nerd said quietly.
“Geez. Why didn’t you just say that?” The darker one asked.
“Fuck you!” Ford barked, glowering at the man as if he was an idiot. It was pretty idiotic to say.
“You know what I mean.” He waved their incredulous stares off. “You could’ve pulled out some ID or something.”
“How come you all didn’t pull out your badges?” Dana asked, standing beside Brian. He’d handed him a black bandana out of his pocket to press against the seeping cut. “You guys seemed pretty busy protecting your own identities.”
“We’re undercover,” The geek said boldly, glaring right back at Dana. He may have been dressed like a tame boy scout but the coiled muscles under all that plaid said he could probably hold his own.
“Who the fuck did this?” Ford didn’t care about badges or any of that. He wanted retribution for whoever had hurt his brother. “Speak up!” he demanded.
“Does it exactly look like he lost?” The marine said coldly, from beside the nerd. He was wiping the blood off his own lips and the trickle on his bicep.
Brian turned and went to JayBoy who still cowered on the ground beside the dumpster. “That was insane,” The kid gaped at Brian.
“Hey! Can’t let you take him.” The nerd pointed.
Brian and his team gave them a look that said, who’s going to stop us?
“Get him on the horn,” the one with the sexy ink said. “This should be fun.”
“You might want to get Duke over here,” JayBoy said grimly.
“He’s already here.” Duke and Quick came from around the front of the building, walking up behind the officers. Their emergency button had dispatched the entire team, not just his brother. Of course, Duke and Quick were there.
They moved side by side. Quick was only an inch taller, but broader; his long hair flowing down his back. Duke wore a black polo shirt with his logo on it. He was all smiles and confidence when he approached the men Brian had just tangoed with.
“Ruxsberg, Green.” Duke shook their hands. “You causing problems for my men? I thought you only wreaked your havoc on dealers.”
“We do.” The smug one in the Stones shirt was named Ruxs. “Looks like you got a couple new heavy hitters, Duke.”
“Looks like you do too. And you are?” Duke held his hand out to the other two men.
The geeky one held out his hand. “Detective Murphy, Tech, and this is Detective Steele.” He pointed to the man next to him.
“You’re detectives?” Duke said, noting the Marine’s grunginess, then lingering on the trendy man beside him.
“Why do they always stare at me when they say that?” Tech scowled.
“It’s the bowtie, baby,” Steele said, ignoring the raised brow from Duke.
“This has been fun. But we’re in the middle of a sting. We need Jay back in his apartment in the next hour or else we’ve wasted a lot of time.” Green—the one with the tribal tats—seemed to be the more diplomatic of the group. “Can you give us that?”