Chapter Eight. #2
Now, Preach stood outside the home of a woman Gunner had been seeing for nearly two years, according to Abby.
The small house was on the quieter side of the Hills, nestled in a neighborhood where Gunner probably figured his street troubles wouldn’t reach him.
Like many men in his world, he had found a good woman to retreat to when things got too heavy outside.
But now, his choices were about to shatter her life.
Dimitri stood on one side of Preach while Kervens waited on the other, both men in black gloves with their guns in their hands.
Preach glanced around the backyard again before scrutinizing the back door.
The wood around the lock was cracked, and one side of the frame was pushed inward.
That told him someone had already forced their way inside long before he got there.
He raised two fingers, signaling his men to tread carefully. None of them knew what awaited them on the other side. Kervens stepped forward and eased the damaged door open. Preach followed closely behind, gun raised, scanning the interior while Dimitri covered the opposite angle.
The place was a wreck. The glass coffee table lay on its side, a wide crack splitting through the center.
One of the dining chairs was toppled near the hallway, its legs shattered, and the curtains hung limply, half-pulled from the wall.
A dark smear of blood stained the carpet near the kitchen, with smaller drops leading toward the back door they had just come into.
Preach moved deeper inside, nudging a broken lamp out of his way with his shoe. It was clear a struggle had taken place. His first thought was that the Knights had beaten him to Gunner.
A sudden noise came from the bedroom. A slight movement of Preach’s gun signaled to Kervens to check it out. He went first, with Dimitri trailing behind. A woman screamed moments later, and Preach rushed into the bedroom. He found Gunner’s girlfriend on her knees beside an open suitcase.
Clothes, cash, toiletries, and several pairs of shoes were scattered across the bed.
Her passport and car keys rested next to a pile of folded money, revealing that she had been preparing to leave in a hurry, just as Gunner had warned her to.
Kervens had one hand twisted into the back of her shirt while Dimitri searched the attached bathroom and closet.
“Ain’t nobody else here, sir.” He confirmed.
The woman looked up at Preach and immediately stopped fighting as fear spread across her face.
With a gun hanging from his hand and dried blood staining one sleeve, he looked like the devil had walked into her bedroom to collect a debt.
Her attention dropped to his weapon before darting toward the doorway as she calculated whether she could make it past three armed men.
Gunner had warned her just hours before about his troubles, but neither had the time to make a move before he was snatched up.
Preach saw the thought form before she could move. “Try it, and m ap touye w.” He warned.
Kervens pulled her to her feet by the back of her shirt.
She stumbled over the clothing scattered across the floor, but he didn’t slow down.
When she reached toward the bed to steady herself, he caught her wrist and forced her arm behind her back.
She cried out as he pushed her onto the edge of the mattress.
“Please,” she gasped.
Preach approached her slowly. After searching all night, he no longer had the energy to waste on yelling.
His rage had transformed into something deeper, growing colder with every door he forced open and every lie he encountered.
He pulled the chair from beneath her desk, positioned it directly in front of her, and sat down.
Dimitri picked up the woman’s cell phone from the floor and handed it to Preach.
He turned it over in his hand, examining the cracks radiating from one corner of the screen.
Given the state of the apartment, it was likely that the phone had been dropped in fear or knocked from her grip during the earlier struggle.
“Where’s Gunner?” He asked.
The woman stared past him, tears streaming down her face, caught in a dilemma over which answer would end her life.
If she revealed what little she knew, would the other men return to finish the job?
And if she lied and claimed ignorance, would the man before her pull the trigger?
This was the second time that night armed men had stormed her home in search of Gunner, and she still couldn’t grasp the chaos he had brought into her life.
Preach raised his gun, pressing the barrel against the center of her forehead. Her breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut, and she settled on an answer. She had to tell this man something.
“I…I don’t know where they took him.”
“Who took him? What happened in here?”
“Some men came.”
“What men?”
When she took too long to answer, Dimitri wrapped one hand around her throat. He squeezed until her words became strained and her hands flew toward his wrist. As her face darkened and her body began losing strength, he loosened his grip just enough for her to drag air back into her lungs.
“Please. Please,” she begged between desperate gasps, sobbing. “I beg of you. Please.”
“I had a little sister about your age once, Alexandra. Pretty spoiled girl. Softhearted. Used to think crying could make anybody feel sorry for her.” Preach said, watching her struggle.
The woman’s eyes filled with fresh tears as Dimitri’s fingers tightened again. She wondered how Preach knew her name, but didn’t dare ask.
“She’s dead now. I killed her.” Preach leaned forward, his stare empty of remorse.