Chapter 17 #4
Trauma, abuse, fear, and violence are evident in their eyes. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. These kids don’t deserve this. It takes me back to when I was a kid, surrounded by circus clowns and a predator who walked among innocent children.
The youngest are toddlers; the older ones are no more than eight, possibly nine. Tears stream down their faces. Some cry, some comfort others, and some clutch their little legs to shield themselves.
So many innocent lives are destroyed for what? Money? Sick and twisted fantasies? Those involved lack any shred of humanity. There is no forgiveness for people like them who breathe darkness and spew evil. Absolutely none.
“Hey,” I whisper to the little girl clutching my shirt in her fist. Her pink sweater is stained with mud.
Her eyelids flutter open and shut at the same time, showing signs of sleep deprivation—but what really makes my blood boil is the purple bruise on her left eye.
Who would want to sleep in a truck while strangers scream around you and take you away from everything you know?
It’s better to stay awake. “It’s going to be okay. What is your name?”
“Mattie.” Her voice sounds weak and hoarse, probably from screaming. “Are you taking us home like Winona promised?” She coughs and pulls away from me, but my heart stops at the mention of the name coming from the little girl’s chapped lips.
“How do you know that name?”
“She was the woman from the 911 call. She told me she would send everyone to look for me.”
My heart flutters, and I blink back tears.
A small smile of reassurance tugs at the corners of my mouth before I nod. “Yes, Mattie. You’re going home.”
A gun’s cocking sound draws my attention just before the barrel presses against my head. “Don’t move,” Rick’s voice rumbles with deep, unnerving anger, startling the kids, while the ones who stood take a tentative step back.
My nostrils flare. I shut my eyes and slam the truck door so they won’t see what is about to happen.
“I said, don’t move.”
I’m slammed headfirst against the steel door, and the barrel of the gun pokes my temple.
“Say hello to my little friend,” he says while aiming the gun to the side.
This “little friend” is nearly my height, muscular, and pointing a gun at me with a fierce look in his soulless eyes.
His tense posture shows his frustration and anger.
“Don’t do anything stupid, or he shoots. And fair warning, he’s a little crazy.”
I like crazy.
“We should thank you. You’ve just made our job much easier. Everyone will get a bigger cut, so maybe we won’t kill you.”
Because it’s all about money to him, not the pain and suffering he inflicts in the world, or the lives he tears away from young souls who have only begun to experience life and have many years ahead of them.
They are inconsequential to him. He doesn’t care about what he has broken or the bonds he has destroyed and severed.
The only thing that drives a man like him is power.
Anyone who stands in his way gets a bullet, because nothing is more valuable than earning respect through brutality, intimidation, greed, and corruption.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I reply calmly. “The cops are on their way, knowing that there are a hundred little kids inside this truck. They know the exact description and the location we’re in. I wouldn’t take it unless you want to rot in prison.”
I’m yanked back before he spins me around and slams me against the truck again.
“Fuck!” Rick yells in my face while his friend keeps his gun pointed at me. “Do you know how much money you cost us right now?” He fumes, pressing the gun under my chin.
I could take them out in seconds, but I need them to take me to Third Eye.
“Son of a bitch,” his friend says, jerking forward and spitting next to me. “You’re a dead man.”
Acute pain slices through my arm and strikes the steel door with a loud clang.
“Get down on the ground! Next time, I won’t miss.” He yells and threatens like a psycho. “You’re going to be a meal for the wolves when I put a bullet between your eyes, motherfucker.”
I clench my jaw, fighting the pain internally.
That won’t kill me.
“What the fuck are you doing? I was right beside him.” Rick’s voice shatters the silence as he jumps on him and grabs his neck. “That fucker stays alive because I’m not going to explain to the boss that he lost millions, would you? Uh, Koda.”
Koda steps back. “We’re taking him to the boss?”
“What do you think? I’m not getting tortured for this. Rick shakes his head, calming the nervousness that crept in. “First, we’ll let him unleash all of his frustration on this guy, and then we can come up with a better plan.”
Koda tilts his head to the side, waving his gun. “You want to kill the boss?” He lets out a soft chuckle of disbelief.
Not a bad idea.
Rick huffs loudly and shrugs. “I don’t know. If things get stubby between us, we wouldn’t have a choice.”
Reasonable enough.
An SUV races toward us, its tires screeching to a halt just inches away. “What is taking you so long?” the driver barks from the rolled-down window.
My eyes instantly zoom in on the spider web tattoo on the side of his face. He looks familiar, but I don’t recognize him, though the flash of cruelty in his eyes is enough of a warning to me.
I’m pushed forward before they pull my arms back to cuff my wrists. I stifle a gasp as sharp pain shoots up my left arm.
Maybe it wasn’t just a scratch…?
“You’re going to explain to the boss why the transaction didn’t happen today,” he repeats as if I hadn’t been immersed in that conversation a moment ago.
“Gladly.”
As if that would change his fate, he disappointed the boss and didn’t do the job he was hired for. That’s a valid reason to end his life. If Third Eye won’t do it, I will. Though not for the same reason.
If Third Eye thinks I’m a dead man, he might drop hints about the big boss. Yet neither of them knows me or what I’m capable of, which works to my advantage.
“I can’t wait to watch him torture you.”
I open my eyes wide like a psycho, flashing him an unhinged grin as I say, “Sweet Death, I’m coming to collect my reward.”
Rick flings the door open and pushes me inside. I concentrate on Mira, who cradles her body in the corner and gazes out the window.
“Why are you here?” I whisper.
“They won’t let my brother go unless I handle this problem.”
“What problem?”
“They ordered me to kill a woman for my brother’s life.” She pulls a photo from her rear pocket and shows it to me.
Fuck!
The car’s vibrations intensify as we accelerate. Rick sits in the passenger seat, grabbing a cigarette from the console. Koda follows us in a different SUV.
“Mitch escaped,” Braxton’s urgent tone in my ear nearly gives me a heart attack. Fuck. I forgot about that thing. “We will be with you until they find the earpiece. Your vest camera is broken, but you have a tracker in your thigh bag. Drop it anywhere you can if they do.”
I clear my throat as a signal to let them know that I heard.
“I heard what Mira said. If she is after your wife, we can address the situation.”
I let out a subtle groan and say, “What if I can help you and save your brother instead?”
Disbelief is evident on her face as her brows draw together in question. She has witnessed so much that trusting me, a stranger who just killed a bunch of people without a second thought, seems absurd.
I don’t want to hurt innocent people who have nothing to do with these offenders, and the thought of killing or harming women is something I can’t comprehend. It doesn’t sit well with me. It never has.
But if she leaves me with no choice, I will always choose Winona.