Saved by the Outlaw: Motorcycle Club / Hitman Romance by Alexis Abbott, Alex Abbott

liquor store at once, except for Leon and the bearded, bear-like guy pinning Mickey to the floor. Leon looks back over his shoulder at the two of them, and the bearish guy speaks up.
    “What should I do with him?”
    “Stand him up, Genn. We’re gonna have a little business chat.”
    “You think you got time for that?” spits Mickey as Genn swings him up onto his feet effortlessly. “Nosy neighbors ‘round this neighborhood must’ve called the cops by now. This gun, ya know, it’s small but it’s still awfully loud.”
    “Yeah, and I bet you had the good sense to register it under your name legally, eh?” Leon says, turning back away from me to take an aggressive step toward Mickey, who shrinks back.
    Mickey is silent.
    “That’s what I thought. They’re gonna get here and see that gun and know exactly who shot it. You wanna go down for shooting an innocent man, Mr. Lamar?”
    “Pfft!” the store owner snorts. “He’s an illegal. They’ll just toss his ass back over the border and be done with it. I’ll just tell ‘em he lunged at me or something. Self-defense is still a valid reason to fire in this country. And besides, who’re the cops gonna believe: me or some foreigner with no ID?”
    Leon gives Genn just the slightest, subtlest nod. The bearlike guy pulls back and pummels Mickey in the gut, hard, causing him to gasp in pain and shock. With the wind knocked out of him so suddenly, he doubles over.
    “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Leon says, calmly and quietly. “You’re gonna hire back everyone you let go, including the innocent man you just wounded, once his shoulder’s all healed up. And speaking of which, you are also going to pay for every dime of his medical care until he’s even better off than when he first met your slimy ass.”
    “Or what?” Mickey manages to choke out, though his arms are wrapped around his stomach like he’s trying not to wince.
    “Well, we don’t exactly have a contract drawn up, but I think you’ll find that Genn here can be very convincing. I think he’s all the incentive you’ll need.”
    Genn knees Mickey in the back and the store owner yelps in pain.
    “Go to hell,” he groans viciously.
    “Fine, we’ll throw in another benefit. We’ll get rid of the gun.”
    “You mean you’ll confiscate it,” Mickey snaps.
    “Look, do you really wanna have that gun in your hands when the cops show up? Illegal alien or not, it’s gonna look real incriminating already that a man you hired got shot on your property with your gun while you were on the premises. Don’t you think? And take in the fact that he’s not from around here — well, that jury is gonna take one look at your racist, good-for-nothing face and convict you before you can even take a breath, Mr. Lamar.”
    “So why not let us take that smoking gun off your hands since you obviously don’t know how to handle it anyway?” Genn adds, looking to Leon for approval.
    Mickey is fuming, shaking his head at the floor.
    “Agreed?” Leon prompts, bending down to stare at Mickey, who’s all but kneeling on the floor in front of him by this point.
    In response, Mickey simply drops the gun on the floor. Leon snatches it up and latches the safety back on before tucking it into his leather jacket. “Good choice. Nice doing business with you, Mr. Lamar.”
    “Genn, get him into the back room and leave him there. Then get outta here while you still can,” Leon orders. “I’ve gotta talk to Miss LaBeau.”
    At the sound of my name, I freeze up. How did he figure out who I am? Did he look me up? Was he watching me? Was he only pretending not to know me when he questioned me this morning? Then he looks back at me. As soon as those vivid mossy-green eyes land on me, my whole body tingles with a low thrum of electricity. He’s a lightning bolt of a man, and I find myself oddly exhilarated at the idea of being left alone with him here.
    At yet another crime scene. I can’t help but wonder which one