Hell's Angel: Devil's Backbone (BK 2)

One Batch, Two Batch

Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, sitting on the park bench next to Frank. He'd parked himself in front of the carousel at the park. The sound of children laughing mixed with the echo of the corny carnival music. I briefly wondered if these people, smiling and laughing, were how his family looked that day at this very place. My chest felt a little weighed down at the thought. I glanced at Frank. His eyes were fixated on the ride, lost in deep thought.

It was almost like he was in a trance. The ride ended shortly and the people began to exit. It was only a few minutes before the park closed down for the night. Once everyone was off, the lights to the ride flickered off. There was enough light from the moon to see regardless. Frank blinked a few times, and then he looked over at me. "You didn't have to come, you know."

"I know," I nodded. He faced the carousel with a hollow sigh through his nose. I felt something brush my hand and my eyes instantly shifted down. His hand found mine, intertwining his fingers with it. I returned the slightly firm hold and leaned into his side, letting my head rest on his shoulder. The crickets were in full swing. But the semi-quiet was still just as nice. I let my eyes close for a moment. I felt Frank shift.

Then I heard a lone, "Nice night."

It was odd, so I sat up a little—just enough to see who had spoken. Some guy sat on the park bench a couple yards to the left of ours with a smug look to his face. It only took me a second to notice the guys dressed in black not far down the fence line from him. I looked up at Frank. There was a look of surprise mixed with realization in his eyes. The guy on the park bench opened his jacket enough to show he was packing.

He gestured slightly, still looking incredibly smug. "I'm not alone," he said, like it was obvious. No duh, Sherlock. I sat up completely, my heart starting to beat faster. The Irish. It had to be them. My head snapped right as two men with guns hanging loosely in their hands walked around the side of the carousel. "You wanna come with us...or you wanna make a mess in front of your girl?" the guy on the bench asked, knowingly.

Frank eyed the man for a moment. Then he dropped my hand and stood. My heart was now up in my throat. How is he going to fight his way out of this one, completely unprepared? I stood, not quite knowing what to do. Frank started walking toward the guy on the bench. The guy on the bench stood and started for Frank, pulling his gun. Frank grabbed the guy's wrist and twisted the gun away from him while simultaneously ramming his forehead into the other guy's.

My body instinctively jolted a bit in surprise. They turned left, just enough for the Irish guy to stab some kind of syringe into Frank's shoulder. My eyes widened. Why would they need a syringe? Oh no. Not a sedative. Frank got the upper hand on the guy, slamming his fist into his shoulder and into his face a couple times. He turned the guy around and around an arm around his neck to hold him still. "Alison," he called. "Behind me."

If only I'd thought to bring my gun to this. He didn't have to tell me twice to get me to move. I dove behind him as he turned his back toward me, putting himself and his hostage in between me and the Irish. We were backed up to the carousel now. "Don't shoot! We want him alive!" the guy Frank held hollered. Frank yanked the syringe out of his neck and tossed it away.

"Who, who wants me alive?" he questioned, pulling a gun from his belt and pressing the barrel to the hostage's head.

"Drop it! Drop it!" All of them were shouting the same thing.

"Calm down! Everyone calm down!" the hostage yelled. "No one shoot!" My back was pressed against the rot iron fence that was just before the carousel. My chest heaved, struggling to catch up with my pulse—moving way too fast. Frank glanced between the men on either side of us. Then he pointed his gun and shot at the men to the right. The men to the left fired as Frank turned, facing the hostage toward them.