This time, it could be the man’s lucky break.
Chapter Twenty-One
Working at the plant wasn’t exactly what Stacia would call fun by any stretch of the imagination. It had, however, stopped being something she dreaded now that Marco was gone. The lightened mood of the entire shift didn’t go unnoticed, either.
Especially when Billy announced they were all getting a fifty-dollar one-time pay bonus that week because production had unexpectedly jumped five percent.
Billy wasn’t an idiot. He’d delivered an iron-clad case to HR that Marco and his bullshit had been a drag on their company for years.
As a result, the company would be getting rid of the tenure system and instead replace it with a merit system. Employees could earn points for performance.
They could also lose them for bullshit like what Marco had been engaged in. He certainly hadn’t been performing his job up to the highest standards when he’d spent so much time harassing coworkers.
It turned out he hadn’t just been sexually harassing the women, but bullying quite a few of the men as well, like making them do his work as well as their own, again impacting production. Without fear of retribution, men were now coming to Billy and reporting the stuff they’d silently dealt with for years.
With everyone doing their own jobs without fear of Marco targeting them, it was a given they had a more productive shift.
They allowed Stacia to clock in early for her shift. Billy called out to her when she passed his office door and handed her a small, wrapped box with her name on it.
“What’s this?”
“Karen from the morning shift asked me to give it to you.” Curious, and more than a little wary, Stacia opened it.
It was a small package of dark chocolate candies. And it included a little note.
Thank you! Marco picked on my husband all the time. Thank you for standing up to him! Please enjoy these with our love and appreciation.
The note’s text blurred as tears welled in Stacia’s eyes. She hadn’t had chocolate, especially dark chocolate, since she was a kid. It wasn’t in their budget, and she refused to waste money on it when for the price of an ounce of it she could buy her family five pounds of dried beans.
Billy studied her. “What is it? You okay?”
She nodded, finally reaching in and taking one of the candies and popping it into her mouth.
Just as good as she remembered it as a kid. She closed her eyes and savored it, enjoying it. Then she held the box out to him, offering him one.
“Thank you,” he said as he selected one. “I haven’t had these in years.” He also seemed to savor it.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. They’re expensive.”
“But…you’re the boss.”
“So?”
“I mean, don’t you make a lot more than us?”
He nodded his head at the door, indicating for her to close it.
She did.
“How much do you think I make?” he asked.
She hoped this wasn’t a trap. It didn’t feel like one. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured management made decent money.”
He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and slid it across his desk. She recognized it. It was the payment stub those who used direct deposit received on payday, with the details of their earnings, tax deductions, and so forth.
He only made ninety-two dollars more a week than she did.
It shocked her.
He took the paper back. “That’s between you and me, obviously,” he said.
Numb, she nodded.
“I’m lucky that my wife’s parents inherited their apartment from her mom’s mom and dad. We live there with them. We can’t afford to move out on our own. I have two daughters, who I’d kill and die for, but our younger one was an accident because we couldn’t afford for my wife to replace her five-year. A condom broke on us before we could get her a new one put in.”
“Wow.”
He shrugged, a sad smile on his face. “For the record? A five-year is a lot cheaper than a child.”
* * * *
Billy’s words haunted her throughout her shift. It even dampened her joy over learning about the extra bonus.
Trying to get her mind off that, she thought about Lima and Quack and that they would be picking her up at the end of her shift.
That was something she looked forward to.
When she finished working and clocked out at the end of her shift, she gathered her things and started walking down to the main gate. She was looking for the men’s truck when she happened to glance in the direction of the bus stop. Who she saw standing there chilled her.
Marco.
He stood back in the shadows behind the bus shelter, and hadn’t spotted her yet.
There was no good reason for him to be waiting there.
None at all.
The only one she could think of was a very, very bad reason.
Stacia ducked behind the guard shack and frantically scanned the street where the men said they’d be parked. Two of the street lamps were out, but then she spotted their truck parked there between two other cars she’d had yet to see move since she’d been working at the plant.
Taking a deep breath, she clutched her tote bag tightly against her and sprinted for the main gate. If she could get through the gate before Marco reached it, she could easily outrun him to the truck.
That was her plan, except she was still about fifteen feet from the main gate when she heard Marco yell her name.
Ignoring him, she bolted through the gate, running as fast as she could toward the truck and hoping the men were paying attention. Quack opened the passenger door and stepped out, but she screamed at him.
“Move over!”
He apparently spotted Marco, who she heard bellowing behind her, and then Lima was also getting out of the truck, both men heading toward her with their gazes on Marco.
“Get in the truck, Stacia,” Quack ordered when she blew past him.
She didn’t argue, jumping into the backseat and turning to watch.
Marco lumbered to a stop on the sidewalk, about twenty yards away from the truck. The men had stopped and were standing shoulder to shoulder and blocking his path.
Both of them held their hands ready at their hips, as if they had holsters hidden under their shirts.
For all she knew, they probably did.
Marco glared at them. “Get outta my way, assholes.”
“Buddy,” Quack said, “trust me when I say you want to turn yourself around and walk away, right now.”
She was torn between lust and terror. The tone in the men’s voices stirred more than comfort inside her.
It stirred need.
“My beef’s with her, not you two fuckers. Move.”
“Now, see,” Lima said, “that’s where you’re wrong. If your beef is with her, then you are dealing with us.” He drew a handgun, holding it pointed down at the sidewalk. “Now, you can turn around and go away, or we can make you disappear. Your call. We’re good with either option.”
Now Marco looked like he was rethinking his position. He cast one final glare at the truck before turning and stomping off the way he came.
Relief filled her, so sharp and fast, that she nearly burst into tears.
When the men returned to the truck and Lima got back behind the wheel, he turned to look at her over the back of the seat. “I’m guessing there’s a background story we need for context?”
She nodded. “Drive and I’ll tell you.”
“Tell us now,” he said. “That guy isn’t going to come back and fuck with us.”
Still trembling, she told them about Marco, what he’d done, what she’d finally done to him. When she finished, the men laughed.
“Seriously?” Quack asked. “You nailed him with a goddamned monkey wrench?”
She nodded. “I had it in my hand and thank god it was that and not a tiny screwdriver or something.”
Now having heard the story, Lima put the truck into gear and pulled out. “You are a woman of many talents,” Lima said.
She didn’t imagine the respect in his tone. It was the same tone Billy had used.
“Just please don’t go after our nuts,” Quack joked.
“Don’t worry, your nuts are safe. I like your nuts.” She realized what she’d said too late, but the men were already chuckling.
“Honey,” Lima said, “you want to see our nuts, you say the word.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Stacia’s pulse started to slow as Lima drove them away from the plant. Thank goodness they had offered to pick her up and she hadn’t stupidly turned them down.
She wondered if Marco had been able to find out exactly where she lived yet. The apartment wasn’t in her name, it was in Aunt Darla’s, as was the phone.
She knew Marco didn’t have a car. He had to take the bus with the rest of them, but he took a different one because he lived in a different neighborhood. But if he still had a contact in HR at the plant, it might have been possible for him to find out. Or if he’d somehow learned what stop she got off at, maybe he’d narrowed it down.
Maybe he’d been the reason she thought she was being followed. Maybe it’d been him following her.
“No offense,” Quack said, “but we need to blindfold you for this part of it. It won’t be long.”
“Why?”
“So you can’t see where we go.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“We trust you, but you need to understand the enormity of the situation we’re dealing with.”
Lima expounded. “We don’t want to have to change safe houses right now. What we have is a pretty good setup. This will save us the time and driving of having to take you home, and then go back and talk to the others, and then bringing Papa to you. Until we get the okay from Papa to let you know where our safe house is, we can’t.”
She could understand that. They had someone they reported to.
And she didn’t want to go back to the apartment right now, anyway. She wasn’t worried about her aunt, because Marco didn’t know who she was, and she walked to and from the bus stop with three other people who worked where she did. “Okay.”
“Thanks.”
They had her lie down in the backseat and gave her a bandana to use as a blindfold. She didn’t bother trying to cheat. If they were going to trust her enough to take her there in the first place, she wouldn’t try to look.
If they’d wanted to kill her, or rape her, or whatever, they would have. They’d had plenty of opportunities already.
If she wanted a snowball’s chance in hell of saving Marvin, the men were it.
If for that reason alone, she would trust them.
Because she knew damn well they might be the only chance she had.
* * * *
After driving for about twenty minutes, they stopped for a gate, then she heard a roll-up door open. They pulled into a garage, based on the sound, and then the engine shut off and the garage door rolled down again.
“We’re here,” Quack said. “You can sit up.”
They were inside a garage. There were several men gathered around the truck. “Get Papa,” Lima told one of them.
One of them left and returned a moment later with another guy.
Holy hell, they’re all hunks.
Lima and Quack quickly detailed who she was and why they’d brought her there to their commander or leader or whatever the heck he was. He walked over to her.
“You understand the enormity of the situation, right? Why secrecy is necessary?”
“Yeah. Lots of bad shit in the world right now, including maybe the people who have their hooks in my brother. You help me with that, I’ll be more than happy to do whatever I can to help you with your gig.”
He extended his hand. “You can call me Papa.”
She shook with him. “Stacia.”
“Glad to finally meet you in person. I feel like I already know a lot about you.”
“According to these two guys, you do already know a lot about me.”
He grinned. “I like you. You’ve got spunk.”
* * * *
Before they got down to business, they gave Stacia a stick test and then introduced her to everyone. Lima and Quack recounted a brief run-down of what happened in front of the plant. Stacia had to repeat the story to everyone about how she’d stood up to Marco.
When she finished, a large black man she thought was named Omega laughed before speaking up. “Well, I have the perfect codename for her,” he said.
Everyone looked at him.
“Considering what she did to that guy at work, we call her Ak.”
Papa asked it first. “Ak?”
“Yeah, A-K. Short for Ass-kicker.”
Everyone laughed, but it was the good kind of laughter, of friendship and agreement and support, not the poke-fun-at-you kind.
And she definitely knew the difference.
Lima cocked his head as he stared at Stacia. “I like it. I think it fits you perfectly.”
“Ditto,” Quack concurred.
She shrugged, secretly pleased about it. It felt good to have someone besides her aunt acknowledging that side of her. Not just acknowledge, but validate it.
Well, okay, Billy at work had praised her for standing up to Marco, but it was nice to have people who technically barely knew her recognizing it and praising her for it.
Another reason she hadn’t bothered pursuing romance since her first, last, and only time, was that she knew she wasn’t some girlie-girl. She didn’t have time or money to waste trying to pretty herself up. She worked at a tough job, and sometimes needed to be a tough broad to keep herself safe.
Now that they’d all been introduced to her firsthand, their leader gave her the full story about Kite, what they’d been doing, and what they’d accomplished so far.
If she’d thought the original, condensed version had been terrifying, she’d been sadly mistaken.
“So now what happens?” she asked, feeling overwhelmed and almost afraid to voice the question. “What’s the plan? We wait to hear from your contact to see what he finds out?”
“Basically,” Papa said.
That frustrated her. “So what am I supposed to do about Marvin in the meantime?”
“Keep trying to talk with him,” he said. “Keep lines of communication open with him until we know how best to proceed.”
Once everyone else had filtered out of the common room, including the two other women, Stacia was left alone with Lima and Quack.
“I know I’m going to need sleep,” Quack said. “You probably do, too,” he said to her. “Would you like us to take you back home?”
“Trying to get rid of me, huh?” she only half teased.
She did not want to go back to the apartment. Not with the threat of Marco hanging over her head, but more importantly, because she didn’t want to leave these two guys.
For the first time in her life, she felt like maybe she had someone she could lean on, just a little, tiny bit, to help shoulder her burdens.
“Babe,” Quack said, “trust me when I say getting rid of you is the last thing we want to do.”
She went for broke. “Then how about I sleep here today?”
The men froze before glancing at each other.
“Or is that a problem?” she said, hoping she hadn’t seriously overstepped some invisible line.
Or maybe they didn’t find her nearly as attractive as she found them.
“Here?” Lima asked.
Don’t be afraid to have fun for once in your life. She stepped closer. “Specifically, with you two. If, you know, you’re good with that.”
The men nodded, smiles filling their faces. “Might not get right to sleep, though,” Lima said suggestively.
She lobbed the suggestion back at him. “I’m good with that.” She met his brown gaze. “I’m real good with that as long as you two are good with that.”
“Then follow us, milady,” Quack said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
They led her to their room. It wasn’t much, but considering the circumstances, it was clean and she knew it’d be safe.
No way she’d get any sleep at the apartment today. She was too wound up and every noise would put her on high alert.
Stacia reached up and stroked Quack’s chin. “Don’t you ever shave?” She loved his dark blond hair. Even cut on the short side she could tell it was curly if he let it grow out.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t do any good. I never grow a full beard, and my five o’clock shadow always reappears about two hours later.”
“So you do shave?”
“When I have a damn good reason.”
“Like?”
“Formal inspections. Which, if you haven’t guessed, we haven’t gotten a lot of those lately.”
“What about for me?”
He smiled. “Ah. Is that a request?”
“If you want to.”
“Don’t like me all scruffy?”
“Maybe sometimes.”
“I can be scruffy,” Lima protested.
“Oh, please,” Quack shot back. “You look like you walked out of a Michelangelo painting. You’ve probably never had a facial hair below your eyebrows. You look like a damn naked baby without needing to shave.”
Lima walked over to stand behind her, the warmth from his body washing through her as he pressed her against Quack.
“What are your real names?” she asked.
The men hesitated.
“Look. You know a hell of a lot about me already. I don’t trust easily, if you haven’t guessed. Throw me a bone. Metaphorically,” she quickly added. “I know you guys are eager to use your bones on me.
Lima finally said it first. “Devin. Devin Mercado.”
She glanced up at Quack. “Cody Velez.”
“Those are very nice names. Why can’t you use those?”
“Because we have code names. We need those to protect not just us, but our families.”
Dalton, Tymber - Monkey Wrench [Drunk Monkeys 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12