Chapter 65

“That true?” one of the Skulls asked.

“I’m fucking dealing with it,” Jimmy said, and then he had his gun out and was pointing it at Quinn. “Get on your knees.”

“You gonna do it here?” Quinn asked, a corner of his mouth tugging back in a sneer. “Out in the open?”

Jimmy moved behind him and tugged the gun from Quinn’s waistband, tossing it aside. “Get on your fucking knees, Quinn.”

Quinn got on his knees in the dirt.

Aaron didn’t have a good shot. Uncle Will was blocking him—not that he gave a fuck about Uncle Will, but if he missed Jimmy, that gave Jimmy a chance to shoot Quinn. Fuck fuck fuck. The last time he’d been in a firefight, at least he’d had body armor and an M4 carbine. And backup that wasn’t a stoner friend from high school.

Fuck it. He had to take the shot.

And yet, before he did, a shot rang out from the other side of the yard, and Jimmy yelped and spun away.

Brody

Aaron pushed his way through the hole in the fence, wincing when the wire squealed.