The Executioner

Chapter 18: Elliott

She was distraught. Hell so was he. Not as much by the gunshots as the feeling he had after. When realization hit that there were bullets flying into the club, where Scarlett was. As soon as the guys took off after the dipshits stupid enough to come onto their turf Elliott ran. He only breathed again when he found her huddled on the floor and waves of relief pulsed through him. Relief and anger. Pure rage. Seeing her cry did things to him, made him murderous.

Now, sitting in church, his leg wouldn't stop bouncing. His hands couldn't stay still. He was radiating red hot fury. All of them were. The air was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife.

The Hell Rangers had been dormant for years. Causing little problem aside from boundary reminders every so often. But as the scum said when they pulled into the yard, they were under "new management" and were prepared to start taking back "what was theirs". They weren't clear but Elliott assumed they were referring to the suppliers that had moved their business over to the Executioners last year. The Hell Rangers hadn't been pushing enough product, snorted too much of it and ended up in more debt than they could come back from. Now from the sound of it they wanted to get back in and had a misplaced vendetta against the Executioners. 

At this point Elliott would take on every one of them and come out victorious but Tack was strategic. Sharp as a Tack. He thought through everything before making a move. When the gavel fell Tacks orders were to wait, watch and listen around town. Get a head count of how many they were dealing with and find out who the puppeteer was. When they dispersed Elliott headed straight for the bar. He'd check on Scarlett in a while. But for now, he needed to calm down. He couldn't face her again, not without taking off after the bastards that almost killed her.

"We will handle this shit brother." Zac stated saddening up to the bar next to him. "How's Scarlett?"

"Fucking scared shitless." Elliott spoke in between shots.

"Well, not trying to tell you what to do, but getting drunk before you go up there probably isn't the best strategy." Zac said in between pulls of his beer.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't. Just saying." Zac shrugged and walked away. The asshole. He knew exactly what to say to make people think. He was their negotiator and interrogator after all. His calm demeanor made people listen to him and do what he says. It didn't hurt that the man was a monster.

Fuck. Elliott stood from the table and made his way to the stairs. He'd just to wing it. Because how do you explain this shit to a girl who knew nothing about the life?