Chapter 6 - Pop Tart

525 Words
At that, he drove off. He had to get her to a doctor as quickly as possible without drawing attention to himself. Maybe they could get out of the city. There was a place in the city, but Demetrius likely had eyes everywhere. They'd be alerted soon. Del decided to drive out of the city to fetch a doctor he trusted and then set them up in his safe house. He'd always liked Kari. She was full of hopes and dreams and treated everyone with real respect. He was determined to repay that kindness. Without incident, Del made it away from the city lights and disappeared into the night. They should be safe for now. * Pop Tart was breathing heavily. Del had been right. When they found Steel's man with a crushed skull, it had been easy to figure out that Pop Tart had done it. Not many could do that with their bare hands. Pop Tart was kind of a gentle monster. He'd taken out another couple of Steel's men who had heard the commotion and rushed outside. Unfortunately, he had taken some hits himself. Two gunshot wounds and a shovel to the back of his head. He was only mildly phased at first, but the blood loss would catch up to him eventually. He was determined to give Del all the time he could. He needed to stop thinking. That would get him killed faster. He snapped back just in time to dodge a hatchet thrown at his head. That must be Eight-Fingers Bradley. It's a good thing his aim wasn't great. Pop Tart took him down easily. Three more henchmen later, he rounded into the alley behind The Crow. Ahead of him stood Demetrius, Steel, and another ten men. They were all facing him with guns drawn. "Welcome back, Pop Tart. Seems you've been busy." Demetrius never raised his voice. He never felt a need to. Steel piped up ,"What did you do with my property?" "She isn't your property, fool. She is a human being. A good person." Pop Tart's breathing was ragged. He had no more energy left to fight. "I won't ask you again, you two ton piece of s**t! Where's my property?!?" "There's not a chance in hell I'd tell …." Pop Tart was cut off. His words caught in his throat as three bullets caught him in the forehead. He was dead before he hit the ground. "Now we are even. You cut off the girl from singing, I just rid you of any chance of him singing. Not that he'd ever tell you about where she was. Pop Tart had honorably served me for years without question before retiring to this club. If his devotion was to this woman, then this is the only way it could've ended. You find this fair?" Steel agreed it was fair, but he wouldn't look at his boss. He felt undermined and knew that complaining would put him right there next to Pop Tart and that Tiffany chick. They all turned to go back into the club. Ready for a party. As if there weren't bodies just laying everywhere.
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