Fear - 60

The man pressed the gun firmly against Max's back as he called out, "How about everyone comes over here and we can wait in the office for Mathews' return. It'll be a sorta surprise party for him."

When his men seemed as if they were going to ignore the order, Max said, "Do it. He's got a gun."

"Well ain't this the shits," John growled, stepping forward, hands fisted. The two other mechanics were right behind him, obviously equally ready to take the man on if they could figure out how to without him shooting Max.

"One step closer and you'll be looking for a new boss. Get into the office. Now!" The man wrapped one arm around Max, putting the gun to his head to show he meant business.

"Don't!" Shawn called out. He was standing by the back door, one hand behind his back on the knob. "Let him go and you can have me. But I have to see that they're all going to be okay."

"Nice to see you again, Shawn. Now get your ass over here, pronto."

Shawn cringed at the order and the man's tone of voice. Every instinct Jared had beaten into him said to do as he'd been told or suffer the consequences. He took his gaze off the man long enough to look at Max, seeing him give the smallest shake of his head.

Taking a deep breath, Shawn said, "No," slowly turning the doorknob. "You come over here if you want me." He felt the door open just a quarter inch, enough that he could shove it the rest of the way when the time came—if it did. Keeping his heel against it so it couldn't shut again, he held his hands out to his sides. "Or aren't you man enough to take me on your own?"

"You little punk," the man growled. "No wonder Jared wants you dealt with." He shoved Max hard, pushing him into the mechanics who were standing to one side of them. Then he pointed the gun at Shawn and fired.

* * * *

"Sorry about the mess," John said as he and the others watched one of the police officers cuffing the man before reading him his rights. "We sort of got carried away."

"Yeah, nobody threatens Max or takes potshots at Shawn while we're around and gets away with it," another mechanic said angrily.

"You're certain he was sent by Jared Lewis?" the second officer asked.

"Oh yeah. He said something about Jared wanting Shawn 'dealt with'."

"All right. We'll need statements from all of you—and from Shawn and Max once Doc Collins gets done patching Shawn up."

"The kid's got guts," Pete, the oldest of the mechanics said, admiration in his voice. "He just stood there 'til the last second, waiting for the bastard's attention to be totally focused on him. When he shot, I was sure Shawn was a goner but"—he chuckled—"the kid had one last trick up his sleeve."

"If the damned door was wood instead of steel," John grumbled.

The officer nodded. "A ricochet can be just as deadly as a straight out shot. Luckily this time it wasn't." Turning to his partner he said, "Let's get this…gentleman over to Doctor Rogers to be looked at, then on to jail. Afterwards we'll let the DA handling Mr. Lewis's case know what happened."

The officers none too gently hustled the very battered man off to the waiting squad car, telling the men to come down to the police station to give their statements.

"Guess we should get back to work," John said when they were gone.

"Like hell," Pete replied. "We're going down to Doc Gene's and make sure Shawn's gonna be okay."

Neither of the other men protested, so they locked up and trooped down the street to Gene's office.