Buying Beth

by Izzy Sweet

  “James, how far out?”

  “A minute.”

  “Got a deadbolt.”

  “Break it.”

  “Gonna try.”

  Pulling my picks up, I work for a bit, but nothing’s feeling right. “Got a drill?”

  “Yeah, I’ll bring it in.”

  Heading back up the stairs, I wait for him to come through the door. As soon as I see his face, I motion to the stairs. “Wait for us. Going to secure the targets first.”

  Nodding his head, James silently moves past me and then down the stairs. I’ve never seen someone move like he does.

  It’s part predator, part fucking ghost like shit.

  Moving through the house, I notice how full of fancy shit it is. I mean, like even I know how expensive this shit is, and it’s beyond shit my rich ass parents ever had.

  This doctor must be more than we know.

  Going up the stairs, I finally reach Andrew and nod. Pointing to the door, we both move as one. Reaching out to the handle, I test it very gently.

  No sense in getting our heads shot at if the doc or his partner have a gun.

  Giving the nod of my head, I twist the knob slowly open and then quickly move through the doorway.

  Andrew steps past me, raising his rifle as I raise my own.

  Quickly moving to the sides of the bed, I pull a suddenly shrieking man’s head from the pillow.

  Not the doctor.

  Putting the barrel of the weapon to his head, I pull the trigger twice.

  A loud scream of fear comes from Andrew’s man as a wall of blood splashes across his face. Cuffing the guy soundly across the back of the head, Andrew and I watch as his eyes roll to the back.

  Good, he knocked the bitch out with the first shot.

  “What the fuck is so important downstairs?” Andrew asks as he begins to zip tie the man’s hands together.

  “Fucking steel door at the bottom of the steps, like a prison kind of steel door.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yep. You want to get the SUV for dipshit?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’ll drop him near you guys so you can keep an eye on him.”

  “Gag his ass.”

  “Always do.”

  Walking down the stairs, I take a moment again to notice how wealthy this guy is. He’s in the fucking money. He’s got original paintings on the walls that look all kinds of abstract and completely expensive.

  “James, you notice how expensive this guy’s taste is?”

  “Yeah, the library alone has some shit I could move at premium cost. He’s not the usual doctor.”

  Something about him helping the Russians sounds odd to me. “Andrew, he have any tats?”

  “Let me check.”

  I can hear a shuffle of noise through his mic and then he says, “Nope, nothing.”

  “Simon, who the fuck is this guy?”

  “Former doctor out of Siberia. Got his start in the prisons there as a medical doctor. Moved up the ladder with his willingness to do anything. He makes Stalin look like a school girl.”

  Lovely. So the basement isn’t going to be fun.

  Heading down the steps, James follows me as I open the steel door up.

  There, in the middle of what looks like a makeshift surgical room, is a man strapped down to a table. Tubes of all sorts run out of his body. IVs, catheters up his junk, and a breathing tube fixed to a machine pumping his lungs full of air.

  What the actual fuck?

  Moving over to the man, I push my body cam to cover his face. “Who the fuck is that?”

  “Damn. I can’t tell, but it looks like the doc is keeping him alive,” Simon says.

  James moves around the room and starts picking up scraps of paper. “I’ll start on data collection. You mind if I take some of the artwork, Simon? Lots of shit upstairs I can sell.”

  “Data comes first,” Simon says with annoyance.

  “Will do.”

  “Check for safes and hidden shit,” I call after James.

  “Andrew, get down to the basement. We need to see if you can figure out what’s with this man and if he can be moved or not.”

  “Will do. How far is Harrold out?”

  “Thirty minutes.”

  “Good enough.”

  This is not my kind of bag. I don’t do the medical, keep-someone-alive shit. Backing up out of the room, I head back upstairs for the doctor’s office.

  We’re about a mile out from the house when a large whooming sound bursts through the night. A fireball explodes up to the sky.

  I guess that’s what usually happens when you make it a gas line explosion.

  Harrold has one of the best cleanup crews around, if you ask me. They’re quick, clean, and completely silent on who they work for. Doesn’t matter if it’s Lucifer, or the Italians, it’s all the same to them.

  The fact that he won’t work for the Russians, though, is a good way to stay in business with us.

  The drive out to our own shutdown warehouse is fast thankfully. It’s been a long night, and seeing the sky starting to lighten on the horizon, is making me want my bed and Beth.

  Fuck. I should have woken her up enough to at least let her know I was leaving for a bit.

  The good doctor has enough intelligence to at least try to play at sleeping as we pull him from the back. He tries the same damn thing every other motherfucker does when he feels the ground beneath his feet, he tries to fight and run away.

  Fighting with us never works, ever.

  A sharp punch to his kidneys and the fight goes right out of him with a muffled screech.

  The smell of dust and grime fill my nose as we drag the man through the empty sheet metal shop floor.

  This place hasn’t had workers in it since the eighties, and it looks it.

  Dust is thick on every surface except for the ones that have been used for ‘different’ purposes. Sometimes you have to take a hand off through a machine, it puts the fear of the devil himself into people.

  Dragging the man back to the old office area, we slam him down into a steel chair that’s been bolted to the floor.

  Securing him isn’t too hard after we hit him in his gut.

  “Thank you for bringing the good doctor to me,” Simon says as he comes into the room.

  Fuck me, he’s not wearing a suit. No tie, no freshly starched shirt for him. No, he’s wearing fucking medical scrubs. Just seeing him in those things is bad. When he dresses up like a doctor, shit’s about to get bloody.

  I think I’m going to fucking vomit.

  I’ve seen this only once before, and it was way back when I was just starting out in the family. Fuck and shit. This isn’t going to be pretty.

  “No problem…” I say, as I start to back out of the office area.

  Andrew gives me a dirty look and says, “We’re not leaving yet, playboy.”

  Hanging my head, I grimace as I walk back over to the doctor.

  Ripping the hood off the doctor’s face, I give him a sad smile. “Doc… I got bad news for ya.”

  He doesn’t look at any of us with the due fear he needs to have in his soul right now so I continue. “You’re going to die in pain. Lots and lots of pain. No way around that. Wish I could tell you differently, trust me, I ain’t going to want to see this either.”

  The man screams something unintelligible through the gag in his mouth, and though I can’t quite make it out, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with my mother.

  “I’m going to take this gag out of your mouth now. You can scream and yell all you want, but it’s just going to get you hurt. So think real carefully about what you want to say, buddy.”

  Hearing some rustling behind me, I look over to see Simon setting up a black leather bag on one of those old metal frame desks.

  Yep, this is going to get messy.

  Pulling the gag from the man’s mouth, he screams just as loud as can be expected. I really wish one of these assholes would change things up for once.

 
Just one fucking time.

  My ears are tired of the screams by the second deep breath he takes. Grabbing him by the throat, I just squeeze my hand.

  Squeezing till his stupid fucking face turns purple.

  “Stop fucking screaming, asshole,” I growl.

  “Thank you, Johnathan. I’ll take over from here,” Simon says smoothly as he walks up to the doctor.

  My hands still on the fucker’s neck. I loosen my grip only enough for him to speak.

  “What the fuck do you want?” the doctor yells.

  “Now, now, Doctor Mirov, that’s no way to start off our morning together.” Simon sits down across from the man and folds his arms across his chest.

  Taking a moment to gather up his courage, the doctor launches a massive ball of spit at Simon’s chest. The sound of it splatting there makes me want to laugh so badly, but even I know not to fuck Simon when he’s wearing scrubs.

  Jumping up from his chair, Simon hisses, “You stupid little man, you’ll pay for that, I promise you.”

  “Gentlemen,” Lucifer’s voice comes from behind us and I grit my teeth.

  Yay, the gang’s all here.

  Color me fucking purple with unending happiness.

  I just want to go home and get in bed with my wife. Now, I’m going to need a very long cold shower to get the dirtiness off me.

  Perching on the corner of a desk, Lucifer gives the doctor a feral grin. “You really shouldn’t anger Simon like that.”

  Shaking my head, I can’t hold it in. The chuckle I have in me forces itself out of my chest and even Andrew has to look away.

  Someone spitting on the germaphobe, Simon, is just too priceless. I only wish I had recorded it.

  “Can someone tell me why I had a medical transport for a mystery man this early morning?” Lucifer asks, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, Mirov noticeably goes stiff.

  “Found some guy hooked up to all kinds of life support. Whoever the fuck he is, Doctor Mirov here was making damn sure he stayed alive.”

  “Is he still? Alive, that is?”

  All of us noticed how Mirov reacted to the question of the man.

  When Andrew shrugs, Mirov pales.

  “Don’t know. I did my best, but…” Lifting his hand, Andrew tips it to one side then the other. “We’ll see.”

  “You must…” Mirov starts before he thinks better of it.

  “Now, now, Doctor Mirov, don’t be shy with us. I won’t be with you,” Simon coos at him.

  And now I have the creepy crawlies going down my spine.

  Leaning down to the man’s ear, I whisper, “Now’s the time to talk, asshole. Spill it all out for us so you can save yourself some pain.”

  “Fuck you! I say nothing!” he spits again, this time at Lucifer.

  “Wrong answer.” My fist connects with the side of his face with as much force as I can put behind it. His head whips to the side then slowly turns back to Simon.

  “You need an introduction, I see,” Andrew says. He points to himself then me, “We’re not too well known, Johnathan and Andrew. The first one you spit on is Simon…”

  Pointing to a bored looking Lucifer, he says, “And the big guy right there? You know his name very well. Every single person in this city knows his name—Lucifer.”

  Wide eyes and a look of pending doom? Check.

  Distinct smell of piss and a large wet spot on his pajama pants? Check.

  “What is it you want?” Our favorite little shitstain now asks as he stares at the faces surrounding him.

  “Tell us who was on the medical table in your basement.”

  “I… I can’t.”

  “Wrong. You can and will. Hold his hand still, Johnathan,” Simon says.

  Nodding my head, I watch as Simon pulls a pair of pruning snips from his bag. A loud snip and a blood-curdling scream later, and the man has tears streaming down his cheeks.

  I don’t think the doctor thought we would go through with it.

  “There will be no warnings, Doctor Mirov. Each time you fail to answer a question, we will remove a part of your body.”

  Maybe in my old days, I’d feel sympathy for the stupid bastard, but I just don’t have it in me now. He touched my girl. He scared the woman I call my own. He has to pay for that.

  Nodding my head to Andrew, I motion for him to come hold the thrashing man for me.

  Walking over to Lucifer, I take a seat next to him on the desk and say, “I get the death blow, Boss.”

  Looking sideways at me, Lucifer says, “I do believe he spit on Simon. You know how touchy he is about that.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, well, he touched my wife. I get the kill for that. Rules is rules.”

  “Funny, I don’t remember that being a rule…”

  I give him the stink eye. “Lilith, Amy… Rules is rules. Simon can be the killer when someone touches his girl.”

  Laughing, Lucifer says, “All too true. But do you seriously think he’ll ever find a wife?”

  Shaking my head, I say, “No, but James sure is scared as fuck that I cursed him with the ‘you’re next’ comment.”

  “You’re next?”

  “Next to get wifed up.”

  “Really? Whatever for?” Lucifer asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. “Don’t know, but you know how them southern boys are about curses. He’s upset something fierce.”

  “He’s Alexei’s father!” screams out Doctor Mirov.

  “Well, well, well.” Lucifer stands up from our conversation and I move with him as we all circle around the crying man.

  “Alexei holds his power because the man is hidden. If he was to die, there are splinters in the group who would break off.”

  “Do tell doctor, do tell.” Simon smiles at the man.

  The man before me resembles nothing like the one we brought into the warehouse.

  He’s missing quite a few fingers and toes.

  His tongue, just recently removed, rests on the floor.

  Simon is a fucking sadistic motherfucker.

  As soon as he discovered he wouldn’t be the one to deliver the death blow, he made damn sure he caused this man enough pain to soothe his bruised ego.

  The doctor has one good eyeball left. His ears are missing, and his nose is half gone.

  That’s not to say Simon only worked on his extremities and face.

  No, his chest is a patchwork of missing skin, and even his intestines have been pulled slowly out of his body.

  Fuck, this has been one long morning.

  Walking up to the barely breathing man, I lean my head down and whisper in his ear, “This is for Beth.”

  Moving to the front of him, I release the lower half of his body and slide it down until his pelvis is hanging off the chair.

  Taking the scalpel from Simon’s hand, I quickly slice off the man’s tiny dick and balls.

  Grabbing the bloody mess in my hands, I shove it into his mouth and watch as he slowly chokes to death.

  When his body finally stops moving, I hand the scalpel back to Simon.

  “Harrold will be here shortly,” Simon says. “He’ll remove the trash.”

  Nodding my head, I follow Andrew out of the building. We watch as Simon and Lucifer leave the property and then wait for Harrold to show up.

  “Long fucking night.”

  “Yeah, but it’s been a productive one.”

  18

  Beth

  Johnathan left me.

  At first, when I slowly awoke realizing the spot beside me was cold, I thought perhaps he just got up to do something. But as the minutes ticked by and he didn’t return, I had to get up to investigate.

  I’ve searched the house from top to bottom and he’s nowhere to be found. His car and motorcycle are both still in the garage.

  It’s four in the morning and he’s gone out to do… something.

  I check in on Charlie. He’s still tucked under his covers, clutching a fluffy brown teddy bear to his chest, and sleeping p
eacefully.

  I could wake him. I could get us both dressed, use the house phone to call someone and we could get away.

  Yet, I hesitate.

  Would that be the best thing for Charlie? I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep him with me. I could strike out on my own, even call Sophia to help me, but eventually my father will find me.

  Throwing his life back into turmoil and uncertainty just feels like cruelty at this point.

  Johnathan may be a lot of things, a lot of bad things, but he honestly cares about Charlie. I know deep in my heart he’d do anything to protect the boy.

  And what about me? Would leaving be the best for me? As much as it hurts me to think about it, I could sneak out now and leave Charlie behind.

  There’s nothing at this moment to stop me from returning to my old life.

  Nothing, that is, but me…

  I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

  The phone is right there, hanging on the kitchen wall and taunting me. It would be so easy to pick it up, so easy to dial a number, any number, and leave.

  This is my chance; the chance I’ve been waiting for. I may never get another opportunity. But I just can’t bring myself to pick up the phone because a sick, twisted part of me wants to stay.

  God, that feels so awful to admit, but it’s a desire I can’t seem to change. I don’t want to leave Johnathan.

  God help me, I don’t.

  And I don’t want to leave Charlie. I’m already crazy in love with the little guy.

  We’re starting to build something here, something special.

  In just the few days I’ve known them, we’ve already created a family.

  And, fuck, what if there’s already a baby growing inside of me?

  Johnathan has made no attempts to hide the fact that he’s trying to impregnate me. After our third round of sex last night, I fell asleep with his cock still buried inside me. I’m not on birth control and he sure as fuck hasn’t used any protection.

  But it’s not just the possibility of a baby that makes me want to stay. I could totally be a single mother if I had to. It’s that the longer I spend with Johnathan, the more and more I have to accept he likes me for me.

  He didn’t have to rescue me. He didn’t have to keep me. I know he spearheaded the entire mission to buy Charlie and me. I know that he was supposed to hand me over to my father, but he defied his bosses and risked their wrath to keep me.