Claiming What Is Mine

They say a man’s life flashes before his eyes when he is staring death in the face; well, I say it is bullshit. All that is staring me in the face are the barrels of four Rugers. Now, did I foresee this happening? Well, of course, I did not come here to have a goddamn tea party. What was a casual exchange of threats has now only stepped up one level to where I am about to have my head blown off. Yet, Antoni underestimates my determination.

I have come too far and too long to where I am; there shall be no one that crosses me. Now, if Antoni does not want to listen, then I shall kindly remind him again.

“You can go right ahead and blow my brains out as much as you like, but you will return my property.”

Well, now if I thought that he would listen, it only makes him more furious. With somewhat of a slight tremble, his voice reaches a pitch higher and echoes to every corner of the room, “Oh, believe me, I am going to blow your brains out, and then I am going to take everything else that you used to own.”

It takes all my control not to burst out in laughter; this man clearly does not know, “The moment you pull that trigger, you will set something in motion that you will not be able to control. You might as well go and hide in your little hole where you and your mother came from.”

Perhaps I should not have insulted his mother, for the idiot is now bravely stepping one step closer. There is a wildfire burning in his eyes, “I will do whatever I need to get what is mine.”

Well, he is still clearly the same idiot he was five minutes ago; he has not yet learned to shut his mouth and listen, “You will do as I say. Can you not get this into your head?”

“Then my head must be as thick as yours, for I said that I would take whatever I want. And as I see it, King, you are not leaving here today.” He grips his gun with the other hand and points it firmly at the center between my eyes, then he continues with the utmost rage in his voice, “You do not come into my house and disrespect me.”

Now, if he thought that it would scare me shitless or make me even move an inch, he is sadly mistaken. I have killed far more men in my lifetime than he has ever seen; his little intimidating act is not even going to get a rise out of me. I came here with a purpose, and it seems that the plan behind the purpose has just changed.

So with only but one hand, I still hold my gun steady, not even blinking an inch. From what I can gather, dear old Antoni needs to grip two hands to obtain the perfect aim. And yes, I do find this amusing.

“It seems that you have some trouble handling your gun, Antoni. When last did you have that barrel against someone’s head?”

“I am not a ruthless killer as you, King.”

“Oh,” I only but smirk at him as I see the sweat starting to build on his forehead. “I see that as taking what I want, and most of the time, it is mine.”

I watch as his hands start to begin to falter, he is cracking under pressure. I cannot help but smile to myself as I watch him crumble. As he seems to start losing that grip, I start to ready myself for my next step.

But then he speaks again, “So, you will kill a man over a simple container. You have plenty of the shit lying around?”

I only but laugh at him as I make one step closer, “Oh, I might have plenty but is am still getting back what you have stolen.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because I am going to blow your fucking brains out.”

There is a complete silence that falls over the room; I can hear his short rapid breaths. His is taking strain; his heart is pounding at a rate that his body can't handle. Antoni is weak, and he is vulnerable; he is a complete nobody as he sits here in his castle. The only reason that no one has taken him out yet is that they are too shit scared to start a little war. Well, I have started it, and I guess that it is not over.

But there begs the question, do I truly want to take the life of a man that has not done any wrong to me? Well, yet, I know that he will do it again.

Though, he still has much to say, “So the great Hunter King hides behind his gun.”

And that is me, that restraint I thought I had composed, snaps. There is no fucking way I am dropping this.

But what is about to drop is Antoni’s gun as his hands are now truly shaking out of control. So with what seems like it is almost an inch of a second, I reach out my free hand and grip the barrel of his gun firmly in my hand. It only but takes one snap of his wrist, and I have him disarmed.

He stumbles backward into a counter; there is horror that creeps into his eyes as he furiously shouts at his bodyguard, “Do something. Fucking do something. Shoot him.”

With only an arm’s length in his reach, I press the tip of the barrel against his forehead, “If anybody moves, then they are fucking dead.”

But in almost an instant, I watch as Antoni grabs a smaller gun strapped to his chest. Once again, with both hands, he aims straight at my forehead. Then I hear a click as he closes his eyes.

I stand firmly; I take the grip of my Ruger tight into my hands. The coldness of the steel sends adrenaline racing through my body. There is no greater feeling of power that surges through your veins. I feel completely invisible as I focus my eyes on Roman. With only a slight touch of the trigger, there is a bullet that enters the chamber. I can feel it move as smooth as silk; then, what seems like less than an inch second, the gun slightly jolts as the bullet snaps out the chamber. I watch it travel with perfect precision and pierce into Antoni’s soft skin. As he falls backward, I move closer and pump another one in his chest.

His bodyguards step backward as I come around the counter, “You can either work for me, or you can leave. But know that if you leave that I will find. Now, get rid of the fucking body.”

Satisfied that I have gotten my message through, I slowly drop the barrel of my gun; I take my jacket and fling it over my shoulder. I make my way out the front door and get into the car. As I bring it to a roar, I can feel that adrenaline still pumping through my veins. That was intense and damn well crazy, but I just got myself a bigger stake in the state.

It is with great anticipation that I finally stop in the parking at the club. I make my way inside; immediately, I watch as Mason comes rushing down the stairs with clear worry on his face; with only but one nod, he knows the answer to the question that he was just about to ask. My crew knows better not to judge my decisions.

So I drop back in my chair; Mason passes me a chilled glass of whiskey; in less than a second, I throw it back. As he hands me another, I turn to him, “You should have seen the look on the man’s face. He thought I was joking.”

Mason only but chuckles next to me as he takes a sip from his beer, “The word out there is, do not fuck with Hunter King.”

Well, does this satisfy me? There is only one thing that will give me a tingle of satisfaction, and that is the woman that I am now scanning for on the dance floor.

And just as I am about to find my way down there to see if I can find her, Mason pulls me back, “There is something I need to tell you about Raven.”