Behind The Alpha Series Book 3 NALA
Chapter 6

(Chapter song ‘Scooby Snacks' by Fine Young Criminals, ‘I'm A Bad Man' by Nine One One)

JESSE

Now it’s an all out brawl. I’m throwing punches like it’s my job. I grab a guy, lift him up and slam his back into the floorboards. I give him two punches straight to the face.

My coats grabbed by the back and I’m spun around.

A huge cowboy with a big, black beard is in my face. I tick my head and try to break his arm and it’s not working. “Uh…shit…” I look down, hook my foot around his leg and jam my spur on his calf. He lets go and screams. I grab his hair and bring a fist down on him.

Another guy grabs me and kicks me hard in the chest. I fly backwards and roll, ass over teakettle, out the saloon doors into the street out side. I stop on my back to the sound of a loud yelp.

I wince at the pain and see a pretty blue walking dress. I look up and am looking into pretty brown eyes, soft delicate skin and mouth watering bosom. Her hair is nicely pinned up and she’s holding her hand to her chest. I interrupted her walk down the street.

Penelope looks at me with shock and a slight sense of disapproval as she pulls her shawl up around her shoulders. Her brows come together as she looks over the situation.

The corner of lip lifts up. I clear my throat and reach for my hat, but it’s in the saloon. “Beg Pardon, Miss.” I nod instead with another smile.

“Quite alright, sir.” Her sweet voice pulls at my chest like a lasso around a broncos neck. Damn.

Focus, Jesse. The job.

I scramble to my feet and run back into the saloon. As soon as I get in, I get swung at. I duck and swing my leg out. I hook his ankles and the guy hit the floor with a groan.

Harley and Dakota are laying them out. Bill has the blonde kid in a headlock giving him the left hook.

The guy that kicked me is in it with three others. I grab his shoulder, turn him and lay one on him. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I get tackled by the labor kids. The one guy picks me up and throws me into a table that breaks into pieces under my weight.

I roll to my back as I groan. I haven’t been this tenderize in a while.

Alright enough playing. “MUTT! TURN ‘EM LOSE!” I yell.

He looks at me and grins real bad like.

I see his eyes glow red and his teeth grow in his mouth. Time to go. I run up to Harley and Dakota. We head for the back just as Mutt tears out his clothes. A large white wolf now stood where he was.

Harley looks at me. “You sure Bill will be ok?”

The place fills with screams of terror, growls and bone crunches. “Uh…Yeah. Sure. Mutt knows he’s ours…I think.” I nod as I watch Mutt tear into one of the laborers. “Go! Come on!” I push them out the backdoor before Mutt decides to turn on me.

Outside the fight is loud enough to have the people on the street stop, stare and back away. Men are squealing in pain while Mutt sounds like a rabid dog.

Wolf shifters have their uses. It’s just containing them that’s the issue. I’m pretty confident I’ll have to shoot him to put him away, but for now, he’s the distraction we need.

Just as I figured, both lawmen come running from the Sheriff house to the saloon. I hear gunfire and we duck our heads. “Shit.” I cringe. Mutts growls get even darker and there’s even more screaming.

I turn to Harley and Dakota who are twisting their lips at me with looks of doubt. “He’s fine.” I wave them off. “Let’s go.”

We get to the back of the bank and I pull out a bag that I stashed with some of the bank managers clothes in it. I strip off mine quick. “Harley. Unhitch those broncs and get ‘em ready to go. Dakota be ready to catch.”

I close my eyes and find the bank manager inside me. My body melts to the old white haired pot bellied man.

Dakota smirks. “You are uglier than a hog in a mud pit. It’s an improvement.”

I narrow my eyes. “Keep it up, funny man. You’ll find my boot up yer ass so far, you’ll shit leather for a month.”

He crosses his arms and cocks his head. “Somehow, that just doesn’t pack the same punch comin’ from that yapper.”

I grind my jaw and shove him out of my way as he laughs.

Fixing my clothes, I open the door and enter the back hallway that contains the vault. First I need the key. He has it.

I get to the end of the hallway and take a look around. There’s gents and a few feather ups standing at the door wondering what the ruckus' about. The bank manager is with him. Who’s not there is the teller. Perfect.

My eyes glow yellow and I find the bank tellers voice. “Mr. Guthrie! I need your assistance!” I shout in a perfect imitation of the teller.

“Orville?” Mr. Guthrie turned from the door. He headed to my direction. “What are you doing back here? Did you get the books from the store?” His boots thumped the wood and his plump stature moved confidently to the back. I hid in the shadows until he was close.

“Orville?” He stops and looks around.

I step out from a supply room door.

A look of surprise fills his face. “What is this?!!”

“A hold up.” I smirk and bring my fist down on his temple. He hits the floor ice cold.

Grabbing him under his arms, I pull him to the vault, paying close attention to the people and making sure no ones coming after him.

I search his pockets and find the key to the vault. Opening the iron bar door, I pull him into it.

I rush to the back door. “Saddle bags.” I throw a hand out and Harley tosses them to me. The fight in the saloon seems to be quieting down. We don’t have much time.

The vault walls are covered in small square drawers. There’s bags of silver on the floor and larger drawers of bank notes.

I drop one saddle bag and pull a large drawer open. I grab fistfulls of banknotes as fast as I can and shove them in the bag. Taking quick looks to the door and listening for boots.

After that one’s empty, I open the next one and empty that too.

“Jesse! Come on! Mutt and Bill just left!!” Dakota says from the back door as loudly as he can without drawing attention.

“I’m coming! Hold your britches!!” I grind as I fill the saddle bags with dough. I'll toss this out and come back for the silver.

As I just get to the door, a bullet hits the frame, splintering the wood and causing me to fall back into the vault. What the hell?!

I walk to the frame and peek round the corner. Another bullet hits right by my eye. “Fuck!” it’s that new sheriff. He figured me out.

“I’m calling you out!”

“What's your problem, Sheriff?” I peek around the corner. He’s standing at the entrance. Looks like he cleared the bank out. His aiming his iron at me. “Why are you pointing that at me? Have you lost your mind?” I mimic the bank manager.

“I know ya ain’t stupid, boy. I ain’t either. We both know you ain’t the bank manager.” I meet his beady eye under his black hat brim.

“Sheriff. I honestly think you are confused. Please put down the gun and we’ll talk about this.” Playing this man leaves a sour taste in my mouth, but I’m not fixing to be shot.

“That ain’t happening, Jesse.” He growls.

I turn back into the vault. My eyes search the floor. I fucking knew it. I pull my weapon and remove a lead bullet from a chamber hole. I pick out a different bullet. Iron. Slamming the wheel back in, I raise the barrel in front of my nose. I got one shot. I look up at the ceiling. “How ya doin’, Art? Long time, no see.”

“You're a tough one to find, Jess. I almost gave up. That was until I found yer pod.” He takes a couple steps.

I close my eyes and slam my head against the door. Shit. “Is that so?”

“My suspicions were confirmed when, low ‘n behold, I see my son in all his glory, strutin', into the saloon.”

I look to the vault door as my body melts to my original form. “I ain’t yer son.” I growl.

“You are, Jesse. More than you think. Now, I’m not here to gab about yer issues with me. Where’s yer sisters?” He takes a few more steps and I adjust my hand around the gun grip.

“Like I’d tell you. Find ‘em yourself.” I prepare myself for this fight.

“Jesse. Ya know I can’t. Only you can find the nymphs. I can’t kill ya. Not yet. Ya better come out or I’m going to have to make good on this badge.” I hear his boots skid on the dirty floor.

“Ya tell a good lie, I’ll give ya that.” I respond.

“I really don’t. I do have my site trained on your thinker. The moment ya show, I'll fire. So, toss your six real easy and come out with palms showin’.”

I look to the bank manager unconscious on the floor. I know Art's a good shot. He proved that on the battlefield during the French Revolution when he caught up with me last. He filled me with iron, but I managed to slip him during one of Napoleons brush ups. He must still be burned about that.

“OK. I’m coming out.” Come on, Jesse. You can do this.

I grab one of the saddle bags and shove it up my shirt for protection. I know his word is no good.

I toss my iron out to the hall and it skids across the floor, hitting the wall on the other side.

I blow out a breath and step out with my hands up. I stare him down, push my chin out and tick my head. The bank managers suit hangs off my body because now it’s too big.

He smirks as his eyes meet mine. “Tell me.” He says low.

“Ok…” I lower my head and raise it back up to him.

“Jesse! What’s the hold…” Dakota opens the door and I whip my head back.

“SHIT!” Dakota yells at the sight of Sheriff Jackson. He pulls his gun and fires.

I hit floor as Art fires back. I grab my piece and fire on Art. He ducks between the wall and the bank counter. I roll to my feet. “GO! GO! GO!” I say as I push Dakota out the door.

“The cash!” Dakota yells.

“Not worth the skin! Git on the horse!” I run to the brown horse close the wall and jump in the saddle. Dakota mounts the other and pulls Harley up on it. “What happened?!”

Bullets hit the door. “That! Git! HA!” I snap the reins and the horses run with a loud whinny. “SPLIT UP!” I yell when we hit the street. I turn right and the boys turn left. As I pass the bank, Art comes out the door and fires several shots my way. “ARRGHH!” I take a shot to the side above my kidney. I fight the horse for control as searing pain crosses my body. “FUCK.” I hold the hole in my side and whine. Goddamn this hurts. I take the backroad out of the town at full gallop.

The pain moves to my chest. My face twist to serious concern. I’ve been shot plenty times. This is not ordinary.

I start to feel it in my legs and my head feels like a drunk mule. I can feel myself slipping out of saddle. I see a small barn up ahead. Pulling the reins, I try to stay upright while I direct the fighting horse beneath my legs. Clearly, he’s never been shot at before. I slow him to a trot as we enter the yard tucked in the trees.

I have no idea where I am, but it’s a place to hide for now until I heal from whatever is in my back. From the feel of it, it’s gonna be a while.

My breathing is struggling as I stop the horse and get off. I slap its ass and it runs away. I feel like I’ve been bending for a month and it’s time to come home.

I brace myself on the barn wall. Gotta stay awake. Whatever this hot ball is, it’s working fast. Holding my bleeding side, I push the barn door open enough to stumble into it. I hear horses, but my eyes are shutting down.

I barely get to the back of the barn before rolling to the floor in a large pile of hay. I rest on my stomach and close my eyes. I feel the blood soak my shirt and my head floats in the pain.

‘It’s alright. I can help you.’

The voice sounded like heaven itself. It’s so far away. My body and breathing slowed to a crawl as I fell into hells blackness.

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