Jase let out another little laugh. “Don’t worry. There’s no blood. Yet.”
No blood? “Did they run away?”
Jase knelt down on the floor and extended a tattooed and muscled arm under the bed. I grabbed his forearm, solid like an iron bar. Strong. He pulled me out with a firm but controlled tug. As I rose to my feet I brushed off the dust that clung to my skin. I was annoyed to see some of it had mixed with sweat leaving me with gray marks around my thighs and on my stomach.
Jase nodded towards the stairs. “Come on. Before they get up.” I risked a look through the windows to see what had happened down below. There were two skinny guys lying on the floor clutching their stomachs. I gulped.
Jase walked ahead of me as we went down the stairs, one arm clutching the gun and the other holding his jacket. I leaned on his shoulder for support.
We walked over in the direction of the door and stood over the men, the late afternoon sunlight streaming over our boots. He was right. There was no blood. I didn’t understand what was going on.
Jase poked the jaw of the nearest guy with his workboot, shoving his head backward. The guy was wide eyed and looked terrified.
“Alright shithead. I want some answers. I may only be shooting rubber bullets, but trust me, at this range they’d be very, very bad for you.” The man on the floor seemed to be struggling to breathe.
“Rubber bullets?”
Jase turned to look at me. “Yeah. Riot rounds. No blood. But they’re winded, and they’re gonna have some nasty bruises.” Jase bent over and picked up two silver colored but plasticky looking handguns that were lying on the floor. He tucked both of them into the back of his jeans, turning slightly as he did so.
There was something about that; a sexy tatted guy in a white tee shoving twin handguns into the back of his pants, just above his deliciously firm and rounded ass, that did something to me. Well, what girl wouldn’t get at least a littler flustered?
Jase slipped his jacket back on as he looked at the miserable looking men in contempt. Knowing that they weren’t dead, or even bleeding, had been such a relief. With Jase by my side as we towered over the rats before us I felt a grin begin to cross my face. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I smiling?
Poking the toe of his boot at the closest body Jase spoke again. “Alright asshole. Who the fuck are you and why the fuck were you shooting at us?”
The man let out a groan. Jase placed his boot on the stick-thin wrist of the man. He yelped. “Sorry! I’m sorry!”
I saw Jase push his boot down harder on the guy’s wrist. My grin turned to a grimace, but I also felt pleased. That’s what you get for shooting at us, asshole. Jase’s voice was deep and gravelly as he spoke again, “Of course you’re sorry. But that’s not what I need to hear right now. Who the fuck are you and who the fuck sent you?”
The man struggled to breath in before speaking, “Bobby.”
“That’s your name?” asked Jase.
The man nodded.
“Why the fuck were you shooting at us? Have I done anything to you?”
I had my hands on my hips as I looked down on the men below. I want to spit on them. Scum. Should I spit on them? What the hell am I thinking. I’d never been in a situation to watch a man in such a position of power before.
“Sorry!” he spluttered. Idiot, he told you no to say that. He let out a scream as Jase momentarily pressed his boot back against the man’s wrist. As the pressure was released Jase raised his eyebrows at the man again. “The Mexicans! The Mexicans sent us!”
Jase sighed. “For Christ’s sakes,” he said to himself before turning to speak to the man on the ground again, “Which fucking Mexicans? Got a name?”
“I don’t know! I asked him, I said ‘I’m Bobby’ and he just said he was a ‘dumb Mexican’. That’s all. I swear!”
“What did he look like?”
The man winced when he didn’t reply immediately and Jase applied more pressure to his wrist. Then the words gushed out again. “Big! Tattoos!”
I watched as Jase rolled his eyes and shook his head. “And how much did they pay you?”
The man reached into his pocket, causing Jase to level the shotgun at his face. The man pulled out a baggie stuffed with crystals.
“He paid you in meth? For fucks sake. Is that all I’m worth to you?”
The man gulped.
“Did he say why he wanted you to kill a Son?” From the way Jase asked the question it was obvious he didn’t expect a useful answer from the druggies on the floor below us.
The meth-head on the floor looked confused for a moment before he said, “He didn’t say Sons, he said you! The blond guy on the bike. He told us to shoot the blond guy.”
I let out a small gasp. They were after Jase? He looked confused. “Me? Why me?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know man I swear!” Tears were rolling down from the corners of his eyes. Won’t fuck with us again will you, buddy? I felt a thrill running through me. The power we had over the guys on the floor was intense.
“How’d you find us here? We smoked you miles back.”
The other man reached into his pocket, causing Jase to wave the gun into his face, his boot still pressing down on the wrist of the talker. He pulled out a cell phone. “He told us. The Mexican said you’d come here.”
Jase reached down and snatched the cell phone out of the proffered hand. He glanced at the screen and then threw it hard on to the bare concrete. The phone skittered across the floor in a flurry of broken plastic. “Number’s blocked.”
As Jase stood over them I could see the anger and confusion on his face. Who was after him? Why? I realized something strange. Despite only having known him a couple of hours I didn’t want him to feel like that, I didn’t want him angry and perplexed. If only I could help.
We stood silently over the men on the floor while Jase thought. I looked down my bare thigh to the top of my knee-high boots. I wonder what it’d be like to step on them. I imagined stamping the sharp heel in to one of them, maybe a bruised stomach or their balls. That’d teach you to fuck with Jase.
I shook my head to clear it. What’s gotten in to me? I wrapped an arm around Jase’s waist and gave him a squeeze. He slipped his big arm around me and I let out a satisfied smile as his hand rested against my upper thigh and the curve at the bottom of my ass.
It was only a moment, but standing over the druggie scum with his arm around me I felt like a queen. His queen.
The moment was ruined when we heard yet more engines approaching. Uh-oh. What now?
Chapter Seven
Two Days Earlier.
It was cold and dark in the silent room as the man stood over the body in silent contemplation. His eyes ran across the corpse methodically as he analyzed exactly what he’d have to do to it.
He’d never done this before and he didn’t want to fuck it up. That’d be bad. Very bad. What he was about to do would have disgusted all but the most mentally sick individuals. People like him.
But if his plans were to come together, then it was something that had to be done. He rolled up his sleeves before pulling on long latex gloves and gently grasping the cool steel of a scalpel.
“Easy does it,” he said softly to himself as he placed the razor sharp point of the metal tool up against the head. “Here we go.”
The man began to slice into the forehead of the corpse in front of him, skillfully following the imaginary line needed to scalp the man properly. The room was silent except for his gentle breath and the almost imperceptible sound of metal cutting through cold skin and scraping the skull.
The man began to speak almost lovingly, “There’s a good dead body. Now if I just cut down here like this…” He was beginning to enjoy himself.
He shivered as he worked, but it wasn’t just because of the coolness of the room. He also shuddered with pleasure; he’d never done something like this before. He’d obviously chosen the wrong profession. It was filthy work, but someone had to do it. A
nd it’d be worth it. Oh, the payout would be huge. If everything went according to plan, that is.
Thirty minutes later he was done. He placed the scalp into a large zip lock bag. He slipped the plastic bag into a messenger bag. With one final look around to see if he’d missed anything he zipped up his hold-all and headed for the door.
The lifeless corpse stained the body-drawer red, alone and unloved as the man left. Outside a powerful motorcycle engine roared as the man flew off into the night. He had a lot of work left to do to bring their plan to fruition.
Chapter Eight
Nicole
Jase hugged each of the men as they entered. First was Bottle who was a skinny guy with teardrop tattoos under his right eye. Why did he do that? Jase’s tats are cool, but those teardrops? Ugh…
“What the fuck Jasey-boy.” His greeting was a statement rather than a question. Bottle’s soft voice belied his appearance and I immediately began to reverse my first impression. There was a hidden warmth to his voice, and I guessed perhaps there was a story to go with his scary facial tattoo.
Behind him was T-Bone, a shaven-headed monster of a man. How the hell does he fit on a motorbike? As he lumbered into the warehouse I half-expected the floor to shake. If it was anything but thick concrete it probably would have. His breathing was labored as he silently thudded his gloved fist into Jase’s before embracing him in a bear hug.
“What are you going to do with them?” I asked, as they finished greeting each other, wrinkling my nose at the pathetic guys lying on the floor.
T-Bone grinned before opening his maw. His voice had the rasp of a man for whom a sixty-a-day smoking habit would be a healthy improvement. “I was thinking the bridge over by the highway, near the truck-stop, y’know? Toss ’em off in front of a big rig.”
My eyes went wide. What the fuck?
“Naw. Let’s take ’em to the lake. The eels and carp and shit will have great fun with them.” The gentleness of Bottle’s voice was broken when he scared me with a loud screech. Was that laughter? I watched as he eyed the terrified men on the floor “Yum, yum, fish food.” Are they serious? I hope they’re not serious. They look serious.
Jase laughed and I felt the tension in me release a little. “You’re going to give them heart attacks boys.” He turned to look at me. “Don’t worry, we’ll just drop them off in the ghetto or some shit. Even though they tried to kill me, I’m a forgiving guy. That and they’re fucking idiot meth heads. I don’t wanta deal with getting rid of their stupid bodies. Not worth the labor or the risk. We’ll send the pledges out to pick them up later.”
I watched half in horror as T-Bone carefully spat on the face of each of the cowering men. I wanta do that too. They tried to kill us. The men didn’t dare move and just whimpered quietly, accepting it.
Bottle went outside and returned shortly after with a thick roll of duct tape. I watched as he wrapped the tape around their wrists and ankles, before connecting the two together, trussing them up like Thanksgiving turkeys.
Jase meanwhile headed upstairs to place the riot gun back in its box. Within five minutes of the reinforcements arriving we were ready to roll. I gave one final look of contempt to the wannabe-killers as I hopped on the back of Jase’s motorcycle. I didn’t fall this time.
When Jase hopped on the front, I yelled, “Let’s just ride right over them!” What’s getting in to me?
I saw a gratifying look of panic cross their face before they heard Jase laugh. “Naw, they’ll get my bike all methy.”
I paused for a second before getting his pun and bursting out laughing. My giggles were drowned out as Jase started the bike’s engine.
We slowly rolled out of the warehouse. Jase hopped off the bike and dragged the door shut leaving the two meth heads locked inside to await their later pickup.
Bottle and T-Bone were already sitting astride their motorcycles outside. Bottle was on a bike similar to Jase’s, but T-Bone’s was much bigger. I didn’t know much about bikes but his was obviously a custom job of some kind. The muffler-less bikes filled the air with the smell of exhaust fumes and the occasional loud pop as the engines waited to be let loose.
Jase climbed back on the bike in front of me, pushed it up straight with his boot and kicked the stand back home. As he signaled to the other two men to move out I consciously let my legs relax as I sat on the back of the motorcycle. As we roared away towards the highway I already felt more comfortable. Is this really only the second time I’ve been on the back of a bike?
As we flew away I wrapped my arms around Jase again, loving the feel of soft leather over a hard body. The sun was setting and the air rushing over my skin was cooling down fast. I began to shiver and hoped the clubhouse wasn’t too far away.
The other two men rode in parallel behind us making a triangle as we filled the desert valley with the roars of engines. The cool wind poured through my hair and I felt like letting out a scream of joy, or pent-up fear, or excitement or something.
Jase turned around and looked at me and grinned. I could see that just being on the bike had brought his mood up. He turned around and with a twist of his wrist sent the bike shooting forward.
He stood up on the pegs and let out a loud “Aroo!”. That was enough for me. I let out my pent up emotions in my own cry of, “Woo!” that went on an amount of time that would have embarrassed me in any other circumstance. But right then, I didn’t fucking care.
Goddamn it feels good to be part of this.
Chapter Nine
He’d left his motorcycle at home today. This was a truck day. And most importantly it was a truck that had no connection to him whatsoever.
Before he made his move he checked in the mirror to make sure he looked perfect. He didn’t want a hair out of place for tonight’s work.
The sawed-off shotgun was loaded and ready for action. He pulled on dark sunglasses before he exited the van and headed down the street. Although the sun was beginning to set it wasn’t yet difficult to see, even with the glasses.
He spied his targets from across the street. The neighborhood was quiet, and there were no cops in sight. This was the riskiest part of his plan, but it was imperative it be done this way. It should only take 45 seconds, maybe a minute maximum. Little chance of the cops rolling by in that time frame.
There they were. The two young Hispanic men were always on the corner at that time. Like clockwork. A car drove by, slowed down, a deal was made, and then they were alone again. Perfect.
He walked by an ATM and crossed the now deserted road. Innocent people, civilians, didn’t spend much time in this part of town. Almost everyone here was doing something or part of something, or related to someone who was.
The two men were having a heated discussion in Spanish as he approached and didn’t even notice him until it was too late.
As far as the Mexicans were concerned they weren’t at war at the moment. It was a brief time of peace and their guard was down. This was their territory and it had been for years. No one else even wanted it; it was their people’s land. A black gang, or anyone else, wouldn’t even want it.
He walked towards them confidently, not running or walking. His steps were quiet but this came naturally to him. He wasn’t a small man, but he was a quiet one. When he was just a few yards away he reached under his leather jacket and pulled out the firearm. Neither of them even saw the gun until it was too late.
One minute they were talking, the next minute one of them had a newly formed red cavern in his chest as the other was deafened by the roar and splattered with blood. The first man didn’t make a sound as he dropped to the ground, his body already lifeless.
The second blood-spattered Mexican’s mouth gaped open as he futilely reached behind him to pull out the handgun he had secreted in the back of his jeans. Before his hand had even clasped the grip of the gun it was already too late. The shotgun spoke again and the second man dropped wide-eyed to the floor on top of his dead friend.
Breathing fast now the m
an pointed the shotgun down at the two bodies, and pumped and fired three more times, ruining any chance of an open casket at their funerals.
Panting with the exhilaration of the kills he slipped the the now warm firearm back under his jacket. Blood roared through his veins and he took a deep breath, heady with his success. He felt great, he felt alive.
He turned around and walked up the sidewalk before crossing again to get back to the truck.
As he walked away the security camera in the ATM continued to silently record the two bodies lying on the sidewalk across the street. It had captured everything.
Chapter Ten
Nicole
By the time we arrived it was dark and I was shivering hard, my legs and bare skin covered in goose bumps. We must have been riding nearly an hour. I had been pressed up against Jase for warmth, using his body to block the wind, but it wasn’t enough. I’d know to bring something warmer to wear next time.
Two younger guys in leather jackets rolled back the entrance gate as we turned up. There was a sign up reading “S.O.M.E. Security”, and then another saying “S.O.M.E. Debt collection”
We gently rolled up to a well-lit one story building. Loud rock music poured out from inside, mingling with yells and laughs and the occasional shriek and moan.
Here we go. I jumped off the bike next to Jase who wrapped an arm around me. “You’re freezing!”
“I’m okay,” I lied.
“Let’s get you inside and all warmed up.” That sounded like a fine plan to me. Before we headed indoors Jase removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. On my smaller frame it enveloped me and the bottom of the jacket hung lower even than my shorts. If I did the zipper up, it’d look like I was naked except for the jacket. I giggled to myself. Jase raised an eyebrow at me, but then shook his head and grinned as if he knew what I was thinking.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3) Page 105