“You know what you have to do.” He turned the gun around and put it on the desk with the handle facing me.
“You’re fucking kidding.” I stared at the gun, and my jaw fell open.
“The mayor can’t fire Chief Dade. He can threaten the fuck out of him, but—firing him is complicated. We would need a scandal, and that doesn’t happen overnight. We could probably get the votes required to do it, but he’s already threatening to call his lawyers.” Robert Townsend pointed at the gun. “That’s the answer.”
“Mr. Townsend…” I shook my head back and forth. “I can’t!”
And I won’t but keep talking you son of a bitch. Keep fucking talking.
“You have to! As soon as we made our deal, I started making calls—people are chomping at the bit for what we’re going to do the north side of the city. I can’t wait for a scandal—I can’t wait for the system to push him out the door. I need him gone, and I need him gone—today!” He pointed at the gun again. “That gun is either going to put a bullet in Chief Dade or Rachel Lawson. You choose.”
“Fuck you.” I grabbed the gun and pointed it at him. “I’ve had it with your shit.”
And I don’t have to listen to another word, because you’ve just signed your arrest warrant.
“Really?” Robert Townsend shook his head. “Do you really think I would give you a loaded gun?”
“Let’s find out.” I tilted it the gun to the side and realized there was no clip. “Fuck!”
“I’m disappointed, Gerard.” Robert Townsend opened his jacket and pulled out another gun—one that I was sure was loaded. “I thought you would do anything to make sure the people you care about are safe. I guess you won’t be around long enough to regret your decision. You’re just as foolish at Chief Dade.”
“No, I’m not.” I turned the gun over in my hand and threw it at Robert Townsend as hard as I could—right as he squeezed the trigger and an intense pain ripped through my arm and sent me tumbling out of my chair.
The gunshot in Robert Townsend’s office wasn’t the only one. I heard gunfire from the front of the club. It had to be the FBI. They had enough to put Robert Townsend away—I just had to live long enough to see them put the handcuffs on him. My arm hurt like a mother fucker, but I managed to bounce the gun off Robert Townsend’s skull when I threw it. That only allowed him to fire one shot. It wasn’t enough to knock him out though. He grabbed his skull, and I saw him standing out of the corner of my eye—aiming the gun at me again. The first bullet tore through my arm, but the next one wouldn’t—not if I couldn’t stop him first.
The only thing between us was his desk, so I sat up as fast as I could and grabbed the edge. It was massive—oak—, and the bullet had wrecked one of my arms. Luckily, I had adrenaline to compensate. I toppled the desk and pushed it into him as the gun fired for the second time. The desk managed to knock the gun to the side and the bullet went into the floor. I had to keep going—I needed one more burst of strength. I leaped across the toppled desk, using my bad arm as a shield when he tried to aim the gun for the third time. My other arm recoiled, and my hand formed a fist—a fist that slammed into Robert Townsend’s skull as soon as I crashed into him.
“It’s over, you son of a bitch.” I put all of my weight on the arm holding the gun and started driving my fist into his face.
I would have probably beaten him to death. I was in a rage—fueled by his threat against Rachel—fueled by the monster he trie
d to turn me into. The only reason I stopped punching him was that the door of his office was knocked off the hinges by the FBI and Special Agent Jones grabbed my arm. Robert Townsend was barely conscious when they hauled him to his feet, but that didn’t cause them to be gentle when they slammed him into a wall and handcuffed him. Once I regained my composure, Special Agent Jones led me back to the central part of the club. Most of the patrons were in handcuffs, the FBI agents were talking to the girls that had been ushered into another part of the club, and a couple of Robert Townsend’s goons were dead on the floor. It was a horrific sight, but a sign that it was truly over.
“Those girls” I grabbed Special Agent Jones by the arm. “They aren’t just dancers—some of them are here against their will.”
“We’ll get that sorted out.” He nodded and pointed towards the door. “Right now, we just need to get you some medical attention.”
He was right. I definitely needed medical attention. My arm was starting to go numb, and my entire sleeve was covered in blood. He led me outside, and it wasn’t long before an ambulance pulled up, and ironically enough, it was one from the fire department. A few of the firefighters I worked with made jokes about me calling in sick because I got shot. The rest looked to be concerned. They had just gotten me seated when a black car pulled up, and Liam hopped out of the passenger seat. He ran towards me, but the FBI agents stopped him. Special Agent Jones went over to get them to let him through. He had a worried expression when he saw my arm, especially with the sleeve ripped off and the paramedics trying to control the bleeding. I was definitely going to have to go to the hospital once they got it under control, but they didn’t need me bleeding out on the way.
“Fuck man, are you okay? What the hell happened?” He leaned closer, so he could see my wound. “That looks bad.”
“It’s nothing.” I shook my head back and forth but grimaced. “I’d take that bullet any day of the week to see that right there.”
Robert Townsend being walked past me in handcuffs.
“Holy shit.” Liam blinked a couple of times when he saw the FBI agents put Robert Townsend in the back of a black sedan.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “But there’s one sight that’s going to be even sweeter than that—if Rachel doesn’t hate me.”
“No.” He shook his head back and forth. “She didn’t lose faith in you. She believed you were going to come back to her.”
“Well then I better get to the hospital—the faster they fix me up, the faster I can make that happen.” I turned towards the paramedic working on my arm. “Can we do this on the ride over?”
“I think the bleeding is stopped for the moment. Let’s get you on the stretcher.” He nodded and started to pull it out of the ambulance.
“You’re not strapping me to that fucking thing.” I turned and used my good arm to drag myself up into the ambulance.
I was finally reunited with Rachel at the hospital once my arm was bandaged up. I still didn’t believe she would be understanding until I heard her say the words, but I was relieved when she did. Everything I did was to protect her, and I made sure that she would be safe before I even tried to take a stand against Robert Townsend. After Liam joined us, we started comparing notes, and I realized his talk with Chief Dade was why he decided to fight the retirement that the mayor tried to force on him. After teasing Liam for being the reason I got shot, I thanked him for what he did. Chief Dade’s decision was the ultimate catalyst for Robert Townsend losing his shit—which got the FBI the evidence they needed. He would survive the beating I gave him, but he wouldn’t be a free man for a very, very long time—if ever.