Chapter 3 - The Loyal Beast
Mave stared down the dark barrel of the gun.
She did not close her eyes.
She refused to give the gunman the satisfaction of seeing her beg.
The man's finger tightened on the trigger.
A low, vibrating snarl echoed from the other side of the bar.
A massive dark shadow launched over the counter, completely eclipsing the dim overhead lights.
Brutus slammed into the gunman's chest with the force of a freight train.
The man screamed as 120 pounds of pure muscle pinned him against the top-shelf liquor display.
Bottles of rare scotch and gin exploded, showering the combatants in expensive alcohol and broken glass.
The gunman fired a wild shot into the ceiling before the dog's jaws locked onto his wrist.
Bone crunched loudly beneath the pit bull's teeth.
The revolver clattered harmlessly onto the wet floorboards.
Mave pulled Toby further down, shielding him from the falling debris.
Footsteps approached the bar, steady and deliberate.
Declan Gallagher appeared through the lingering smoke, his bespoke suit covered in plaster dust and blood.
He held a handgun casually by his side.
He gave a short, sharp whistle.
Brutus immediately released the bleeding gunman and returned to his master's side, sitting rigidly at attention.
The surviving members of Ponytail's crew were already retreating out the kitchen doors, abandoning their injured comrade.
The restaurant fell into a heavy, ringing silence.
Gallagher looked down at the ruined bar, his cold gray eyes scanning the wreckage.
Then his gaze locked onto the terrified busboy shivering on the floor.
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He saw the black leather notebook clutched in Toby's trembling hands.
Gallagher slowly raised his smoking gun and pointed it directly at the young boy's chest.
