1 / too fuckin many
Never in his life has Rodeo been forced to stand by while he watches another man mistreat his lady right in front of him. And that ain't even because he's never had a lady of his own before, but because this situation is wholly unique in every way. These patrol pigs have him by the short hairs and he can't do nothin' but stand there with his hands up, 'cause that motherfucker standing behind Lita looks real ready to have her to himself and the one with his gun to Rodeo's skull seems real ready to pull the trigger. Close calls are his bread and butter, and this sure ain't the first time he's been in a spot so tight it seems like there's no way to wriggle out of it, but Lita's life being on the line too makes it different. Any other time he's wound up in hot water with somebody else, they pretty much knew what they were getting into before it even began. Even Demi, who wound up in La Quinta for the part she played in a plot busted by patrolmen, wasn't ignorant to the risks when she signed on and started messin' round with him. But Lita didn't agree to this. She thought she was kissing a nobody, just another rider in the crowd, nothing that could bring heat like this. She never agreed to makin' time with the Dog King, and she sure as hell didn't agree to going down with him. The shame he feels is fogging his head up and making it hard for him to think, to plan. He sees the way Lita crumples when she realizes that these patrolmen aren't bluffing, that he's the Dog King and they fuckin' know it, and his heart starts writhing around in his chest like a half-stomped bug that nobody sees fit to put out of its misery.
But the hurt only gets the better of him for a few short seconds.
If these motherfuckers hadn't shown up, where would Rodeo be now? Probably halfway to heaven, if that kiss they'd been sharing before their party got crashed was any indication. Lita told him she was his, and Rodeo's got no doubt that he'd be laying claim to her right now once and for all if these pigs hadn't barged in. She'd still not know the truth, she'd still have a heart on fire for him thanks to that blissful ignorance he had so carefully worked to maintain. She'd still be calling him James in that husky voice of hers. This would all still be going his way, and he would still have complete control over what she does and doesn't know about him. The fact that somebody else took that away is getting him mighty furious, and that rage compounded with the feelings of being trapped, of watching that sick little piggy jerk Lita around, he knows what he's got to do. What he's going to do. Rodeo's not sure what Lita means when she tells McCarrick that he has no idea what he's done, but the truth is that he doesn't. None of these pigs are gonna walk out of this gym alive.
"Reckon you called that 10-15 a little early, partner," Rodeo drawls, as this deadly cold rage settles over him completely. He knows that code-- suspect in custody-- as well as all the other radio codes used by these pigs. He got 'em all off a patrolman he and Sarge played a game of "Bad Hellhound, Even Worse Hellhound" with. (The only problem with that game tends to be the fact that he and Sarge can never figure out who's supposed to be the worse one, so things tend to escalate quickly.)
A wariness crosses McCarrick's eyes, and his face pinches for a moment as if he's worried the Dog King is right. Getting the leader of the Hellhounds at gunpoint is easy enough, but getting him in handcuffs is a whole different story. If there are legends about the Dog King that are particularly well-known amongst the patrolmen, it's that trying to put cuffs on this Dog is a fool's errand. McCarrick won't be the one to try it. He looks to the private behind Rodeo, nodding his head.
"Cuff him," McCarrick orders. The private hesitates, and Rodeo can't see his face but he's sure the kid is shitting bricks at the order he's been given. At least he ought to be.