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The Iron Hounds: A Series of Screams

Jared stared at the figure that had just appeared before him. He squinted, surprised to see the guy leap from a third-story window and land without a scratch.

Normally, a guy would break a leg, maybe even snap a bone.

"You Scott Goodman?" Jared asked.

"Yeah. You got a problem with me?" Scott shot back.

Jared’s jaw tightened. Scott's arrogant swagger pissed him off. He pointed the pistol in his hand at Scott.

"You the one who put my boys down like this? Answer me!" Jared roared.

Scott intimidated? Not a chance. He just raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Yeah, that was me. What? You want me to beat you up like I beat them?" Scott said.

"You son of a bitch! How dare you talk to Boss Jared like that!" one of Jared's goons yelled from his left, the guy in the plain t-shirt who had been firing shots into the air.

Now, the mobster pointed his rifle at Scott, and the other goons followed suit.

Scott locked eyes with him, a wicked smile curling his lips as he tilted his chin.

"Stop it! Don't kill
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