Chapter 4
Keith
God, I was such a sucker for redheads. It didn’t matter if it was a natural red or one of those wild shades chicks seemto be fond of. If they were pretty and had red hair, I wanted to be balls deep. Even if Quinn had green hair, I’d stillwantto fuck her. She was beautiful with her pale skin, soft freckles, narrow jaw, full, pouting lips, and sparkling blue eyes. I couldn’t believe I gave her my number. I didn’t have time for any sort of relationship. She wasjustsupposed to be a slam bam, thank you, Ma’am.
When I offered her a ride, I believed she was expecting the same. I could see in her eyes she was battling some sort of demon. Hell, she may have just wanted some revenge dick. Maybe her boyfriend cheated, and she wanted to feel pretty and desired.
But how she received Taven made me want to see her again. At first, she was shocked; I could see that in her eyes, but then she opened up to him. Literally. It was as if she just said, Fuck it, may as well . That told me this girl could be awhole lot of fun, both in and out of bed.
As I parked, I heard my text messages go off. I swiped my phone and chuckled softly when I saw an unknown number pop up with a single word: Quinn .
“Score.”
Saving the contact in my phone, I headed inside and found Zanestillasleep on the couch. That mother fucker better not be completely shit-faced. I kicked his ass, and he sat up with a start, his pale pink eyes wide with alarm as he searched around the room through long strands of nearly white hair.
“What the fuck?” he cried.
“Don’t what the fuck me! You’d better be sober! We got shit to do.”
“I’m sober,” he muttered, scratching his head.
“Well, you passed out with the music on and didn’t wake for a damned thing.”
Zane popped his neck with a scowl. “I always sleep with music on. I just had a few puffs of weed to help me sleep. I knew we were going to be out late.”
“It’s two AM, and shift change is at three. We need to get our asses in gear.”
“We got sidetracked too, Keith. Chill out,” chimed Taven.
He was right, but Zane had a bad habit of either being coked out of his mind or smoking himself into a coma. We couldn’t afford either. I needed both of my guys at the top of their game. After the night’s events, there was a good chance the local pigs would start sniffing around.
“Get the masks,” I ordered, returning to the open door to make a phone call. “We’re ready,” I declared before quickly hanging up.
A few minutes later, a black truck with Florida plates pulled into the parking lot. The out-of-towner plates should be enough to keep the cops guessingfor a while. Three men stepped out of the truck, brothers from another chapter an hour away; they each gave us a bro hug before we tossed them the keys. As long as they wore their helmets, they could pass as us. They even had the same body types and skin tones,with the exception ofZane’s decoy. That man had to wear full riding gear to pass as him and even went so far as to wear a platinum blond wig pulled back in a braid.
The guys would go back to the bar we were just at, holler at a bartender, and close out our tab before the place closed. Next, they were to return to the clubhouse till about three-thirty, head to a twenty-four-hour gas station, fill up their bikes using our debit cards, and hang around. They were to only take off their helmets out of view of the cameras. We needed people to see “us” and the patches on their backs. After about thirty minutes of loitering, they wouldhead backto the clubhouse and wait for our call.
“For our brothers,” I said as I hugged one of the men and handed over my debit card. Zane and Taven followed suit.
“For our brothers,” they replied.
My trio climbed into the truck and drove stealthily to theoutskirts of the city. We watched our victims’ habits for over a year and figured out their routines. On Friday nights, the current piggy we were after would spend a few hours at his mistress’s house before returning home just before his wife woke up.
We parked the truck behind an abandoned trailer just across the street.Pulling on our masks,weaponsin hand, we crept silently over to the house’s front porch.As far as we could determine, there was no doorbell cam or security. Who needed it when you were fucking a pig?
Zane took cover behind the thick bushesthat linedthe porch, and I crept behind the two large trash cans, pointing my taser at the door. Taven had nowheregoodto hide except for the bed of the homeowner’s pickup. He would stay there until we knocked the pig out or needed additional help.
My legs started to cramp the longer I stayed in a crouched position. We had already been waiting for twenty minutes with no change. The fucking pig better not have changedhisroutine . As if in response to my thoughts, a set of headlights illuminated the front of the house.
The porch light came on, and I nearly panicked. I could see Zane clear as day. We should have taken care of the woman, but I didn’t want to kill an innocent bystander. Hopefully, she would stay in the house long enough for us to complete our task. I heard the car door open and held my breath; thisneeded tobe a perfect shot. The moment his body was in view, I pulled the trigger, piercing the prongs of the taser deep in his leg.
The man cried out and fell to his knees. Zane attempted to lunge, but he slid on some stones and damn near smacked his head but was able to catch himself. Panic welled in my stomach. Lifting his Billy club in the air, Zane struck the man over the head, and our victim fell face down on the ground, completely limp.
I lifted his upper body while Zane grabbed his legs. Taven trotted over as we made it down the small flight of stairs. The sound of a door unlatching audibly resounded through the air. The world seemed to instantly freeze until I heard a scream.
Instantly, I dropped the cop and yanked his gun from his holster. “I got her; get him to the truck!” I ordered.
I rushed up the front steps and slammed into the door.Shehad locked it. I hit it again with myfullbody weight, and the doorwent crashing down. I had to find her before she called the cops. The dumb bitch had stayed in the living room, no doubt assuming her dead bolt would keep me at bay until she could collect her phone. Pointing the gun, I shouted, “Don’t fucking move!”
Instantly, the woman froze, throwing her hands up in the air. I grabbed her arm and yanked her close. She wasn’t holding a phone, and there didn’t seem to be one nearby. Scanning the area, I spotted it sitting on the kitchen table and let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Who else is here?” When she didn’t answer me, I pressed the gun to her temple.
Hysterically, she cried, “No one!”
Not wanting to take any chances, I forced her down the hallway that divided the kitchen from the living room. The first room, a bathroom, was empty. The next held nothing except for a desktop and workout equipment. Then, there was a laundry room with a door leading to the backyard. Finally, I made it to the empty bedroom at the end of the hall.
Shoving the woman to the bed, I kept the gun trained on her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to come to the door. No innocents were supposed to be hurt. I could let her go, tie her up, and hope a friend or family member would find her. The rubber pig mask Iwas wearingwould make it impossible for her to identify me. None of my tattoos were showing, and I was wearing gloves. But what if she got out? What if, somehow, she managed to escape and call the cops? I couldn’t afford that, not after just two. So many more had to pay for what they had done to my family. I knew very well that there was a good chance we would fail in our quest; we wouldn’t be able to claim all of our targets, but I couldn’t stop yet. All of it would have been pointless after just two.
Before I talked myself out of it, I pulled the trigger.Hermouth opened with a silent gasp, and tears slid fromhereyes as a pool of red began to soak the front ofhershirt. Biting my lower lip, I shot her again to end her misery.
Swallowing a gulp of air, it took everything I had to force the bile down my throat. If I threw up, it would be all over. My DNA would be on the scene. I opened her dresser, flinging clothing everywhere. Maybe nobody knew my two victims were having a love affair. Perhaps the cops would think this was a home invasion gone wrong. Oncethe area was sufficiently wrecked, I entered the living room, effectively making a bigger mess there. When I spotted her purse hanging up on the coat rack, I grabbed it and dashed out the door.
Taven and Zane were already in the truck, prepared to pull onto the road. Taven opened the door. “What happened?!”
I couldn’t answer him. If I tried, I would puke all over the gravel and... “Drive.” It was the only word I could manage. Holding out my hand, one of the guys tossed me the cop’s keys. I ran back to the cruiser, started it, and followed my friends.