No Ordinary Day by Tate, Harley (best large ereader .txt) 📕

a deal.” As soon as Willy’s hand slid into his, John yanked him closer. He brought his knee up swift and hard, slamming into Willy’s groin just like he’d taught Emma.

The man grunted but didn’t go down.

John pulled back, but Willy’s grip tightened on his wrist. He swung the rifle with his one free hand. John kicked the weapon. It dipped, but Willy rushed in, slamming his head straight into John’s nose.

Stars shot across his vision. He staggered back as blood filled his nasal passages and dripped into his throat.

Willy shoved him to the ground. “You really think I bought that act? I’ve been watching you, man. I’ve seen you acting all chummy with those bitches. It isn’t to get in their pants. It’s to freaking save them.”

He nosed the rifle into John’s chest. “Just wait until I tell my uncle how lame you are. How one woman spreads her legs and that’s it, you’re whipped.”

“I’m not sleeping with Emma.” John spat a mouthful of blood on the ground and wiped his face before bringing the handgun up to point at Willy.

“Right. And I’m not about to kill you. Stop pretending John. You might have bought her sob story about looking out for the little guy, but that’s all it is. A story. What do you care if she lives or dies? What is she to you?”

“A purpose.”

Willy laughed. “Nick always said you were a loser. Now I know he was right. And to think, I looked up to you, man. I thought you were everything I wanted to be. Cold. Detached. Impersonal.”

He lifted the rifle until the barrel landed square between John’s eyes. “What, is she the first woman to give a damn after dear old mom? Uncle Dane told me about what happened, you know. How she left you all alone and the Marine Corps took you in. Told me you were easy to control. Orphans always are.”

“I die, so do you.” He kept the gun trained on Willy. “Mutual destruction. That more your thing?” John slid forward on the ground, gravel cutting into his back. “You really think Dane sent you on this mission because he trusted you to do the job?”

Willy shifted position, but didn’t respond.

“He sent you to die. Do you know what they promised him? A whole island in the Caribbean. Just for him. You really think he’s going to let his screw-up nephew with a jumpy trigger finger share that paradise?”

“Of course he is.”

John barked out a laugh. “Right. Just like all the other times he got something he wanted. That whorehouse in Tijuana. You get any of that action?”

“I was on assignment in Canada.”

“That sweet gig in Costa Rica where Danny and I snorted coke off a drug boss’s woman for weeks before taking him out?”

Willy blinked. “Dad said I was needed at home.”

“What about that time he wined and dined on the government’s dime while you scuttled around doing the dirty work for that senator.”

“He was the front man. Said I was too good at my job to waste my time in a suit.”

John inched closer. “He didn’t send you here to kill me, William. He sent you here to die.” In one fluid movement, John hooked his left foot behind Willy’s knee, jammed his right into his hip flexor, and grabbed the rifle with his free hand. He yanked the riffle, shoved his right foot, and Willy toppled backward onto the pavement.

He tore the rifle out of Willy’s hand and aimed the handgun at his head. “How did you find me?”

Willy’s glasses perched half-on, half-off his face, revealing one blue eye. He stared up at John, confusion and anger clouding his expression.

“Tell me.” John fired a shot two inches to the right of Willy’s temple. The bullet slammed into the asphalt and ricocheted into the trailer.

“You’re tracked. We all are.”

“How?”

Willy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Remember those shots we got a few years ago? Said it was BCG because we had that mission in Mexico.”

“The shot that left the scar.”

“It wasn’t BCG. You’re microchipped just like a dog.”

John rolled his shoulder. Now it all made sense. How Nick arrived so quickly. How Willy found him. Hell, how Dane knew when a mission veered off course. I’ve been a fool. Dane hadn’t trusted him. He hadn’t trusted any of them.

Caught up in the truth, John missed the subtle movement until it was too late. Hot pain lanced his calf as Willy drove a knife into John’s leg and twisted.

He fired the handgun as he fell, the shot clipping Willy in the arm. The rifle clattered to the ground. Willy scrabbled forward, dragging the knife up John’s leg. He stabbed again, a shallow attempt barely grazing John’s chest.

John swept the handgun around, firing as Willy reared back to stab him again. The shot sliced Willy’s ear. He screamed and dove forward, all of his weight landing on John’s shooting arm. The handgun skittered out of his grip.

Willy reared back, eyes wide and crazed. “Uncle Dane cares about me.” Blood dribbled from the tatters of his ear. “It’s you he deemed expendable. It’s you he wrote off.”

“That’s not true and you know it.” John spat a glob of spit and blood on the ground. “You’ve always been in my shadow. You’ve always tried to measure up, but never quite made it.” He sucked in a deep breath. “How many times did Dane cover up your messes? Paper over your bad judgment?”

Willy brought his arm back to stab John again, but John leaned forward, wrapping his hand around Willy’s forearm as he shoved the heel of his palm into Willy’s chin. His head swung back, and John pivoted with his hips, throwing Willy over and onto the ground. Blood whooshed in John’s ears, poured from his broken nose, and clogged his throat.

As he used his injured leg to rise up, fresh blood slicked his skin and puddled in his shoe. Spots swirled in his vision. He leaned forward, weight on Willy’s forearm, and immobilized the knife.