Pawn: The Pawn Duet, Book Two

by Frazier, T. M.

  When I think I’ve done enough to cause some movement, I give it another try. I practically cheer when it creaks open enough for me to crawl inside. Once I find footing on what I realize was the cage that was previously housing my sister, I peer out again to make sure the coast is clear. There’s a small deer grazing at the corner of the field behind the compound, but as far as life outside the window goes, that’s it.

  I’ve got to get Mindy out of here before Percy decides her life isn’t worth the trouble she might bring to the Reich. I have no idea what she knows or what she doesn’t know. She hasn’t spoken yet but it doesn’t mean that she can’t. And if they get her to talk, or worse, force her to talk, the possibility of her knowing that they are the ones responsible for our family’s deaths is pretty high, especially considering that they’re the ones who shoved her in a fucking cage.

  Way to gain her trust, morons.

  “I’ll explain later, Mindy, but we have to go. Now.” I say. I’m about to leap down from the cage when two strong hands grab my shoulders, tugging me back through the window.

  My tailbone vibrates as I hit the ground. Hard. I’m dazed and dizzy as the image of a large man standing over me comes into focus.

  A large, angry man. One with a Fourth Reich tattoo pulsing against his pale neck.

  Percy.

  “You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed poking around back here,” he mutters. “What the fuck are you doing out here anyway?”

  I sit upright and try to stand, but stumble and fall down again, unable to catch my balance and unable to put too much pressure on my injured leg. I finally manage to get to my feet, but by the time I’m upright, Percy has already nailed a board over the window. I don’t hear anything from within, and I realize the mattresses lining the walls are there for a reason.

  A sound buffer.

  “What are you doing?” I cry, desperate to get back inside to my sister.

  Percy doesn’t answer. He tucks the hammer into his back pocket and storms over to me with his eyebrows knitted together in a deep frown. He grabs me by the arm and drags me away from the trailer.

  “Why is she in there? Why can’t I see her?” I demand to know.

  “Be quiet,” he hisses. “Or you’ll wake the whole damn fucking place up. I told you, you shouldn’t be here.” He peers around my head and then behind him, checking for onlookers. There aren’t any. “And stop asking so many fucking questions.”

  “But I saw her, and I couldn’t help myself. Put yourself in my shoes.” I try to remember the part I’m playing and do my best to center myself back into the role of Reich member. Someone who isn’t Percy’s enemy, but on his side. “I know she’s a gift. Thank you.”

  “How the fuck did you know that?” he asks, gripping my arm tighter.

  I shrug. “Small compound. People talk. Is she okay?”

  “Still figuring that out. Come on.” Percy tugs me to the front of the trailer where Hoppy is now outside, shirtless, stretching and yawning. He spots us and smiles.

  “Morning, kids,” he greets, scratching a dark hairy nipple.

  Percy stops but doesn’t loosen his grip on my arm. “Hey, Hop, put a fucking shirt on, will ya?” His tone is casual and very different from the seething angry one he’s just used with me.

  He’s acting. But why?

  Hoppy rubs his big belly. “Fuck you, Perc. You’re just fucking jealous because there’s more of me for the ladies to love.” He glances from me to Percy. “Hey, what’s got you two kids up so early?”

  I expect Percy to tell him. To say something that would result in me being locked in a trailer of my own at the very least. Instead, he releases my elbow and wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. “Oh, you know,” Percy wags his eyebrows suggestively and bites his bottom lip.

  Hoppy’s smile brightens. “Ah, now I get it. You two aren’t up early, you’re doing the walk of shame. I know how you do, brother. Good to see you kids are taking this marriage thing seriously and finally getting it on the way God intended.” Hoppy balls his fists and jerks his hips, humping the air. He laughs and turns back toward the trailer. “Still on to get that part for my truck around noon, P?” he calls back.

  Percy guides us back toward the main building. “Only if you put on a fucking shirt first,” he replies.

  “Wait, you give the little lady her gift yet?” Hoppy asks.

  Percy stops us again and looks over his shoulder. “Not yet, waiting for the right time. Thanks for ruining the fucking surprise.”

  “Oopsie,” Hoppy sings.

  Percy pinches my shoulder, indicating that I should play along. “You have a gift for me?” I ask him, with mock surprise. “You didn’t tell me! What is it?”

  “Patience,” Percy answers, his eyes locked on mine. “It’s not ready yet.”

  “Very good. Sorry for the fuck up. Carry on, children.” Hoppy gives us a fat middle finger solute and steps back into his trailer while whistling a Disney song from…if I’m not mistaken, Frozen?

  Percy takes me by the elbow once more, reconsidering the main building, he pulls me inside his trailer, shutting the door behind us and locking it.

  Unlike the other trailers I’ve searched, Percy’s is clutter free. The sparse decorations consist of a swastika flag hanging above his unmade twin bed, a Fourth Reich medal hanging over a crooked desk with a framed picture of his deceased mother on top.

  “What the fuck is going on, Percy?” I stomp my foot on the floor, ready to unleash hell and get answers at any cost. “Why didn’t you tell Hoppy that I know about the gift? Why can’t I see her?”

  “I know you’ve got a big fucking heart, Mickey, but you’re asking a lot of questions you shouldn’t be asking,” he replies, nostrils flaring. “Stop poking around. I fucking mean it.” He paces the small room. “She’s safe in there. I promise. She shouldn’t even be here. YOU shouldn’t even be here.” He steps to the window and pushes aside the curtain, checking left and right before letting it fall back into place. “None of this shit was my idea.”

  His chin drops to his chest.

  “Wait, what are you talking about? Why shouldn’t we be here? What wasn’t your idea?” Right now, I would rather have the usual straight-up angry and hateful version of Percy. At least I know how that one worked. This quieter secretive version of him is one I’ve never seen before. I’m not prepared to handle it, and in my world, unforeseen variables are the most surprising, but can also be the most terrifying.

  “It was a mistake for you to come back here, Mickey. Especially ‘cause that gunshot in your leg is obviously self-inflicted. And, since you ain't dead, I know it wasn’t all trouble over at Pike’s place.” He turns to face me. “You should have just fucking stayed there.”

  “What?” I ask, unable to hide the shakiness in my question and surprised at how much I’ve underestimated Percy’s skill for observation. “Why would I do that?”

  “Look,” Percy says, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m a fucking asshole, but I don’t care that you were with Pike. I know this wedding thing is something our dads pushed on us. It’s not exactly like we’re in love. I only care that you came back. You shouldn’t have fucking come back. I’m not always honest, but believe me when I say that I’ve always liked you Mickey. Even when we were kids. I didn’t know how to show it, but you were always nice to me even when I wasn’t nice to be around. Even when I wasn’t nice to myself. That’s always stuck with me.”

  “I—”

  “Never liked me at all and wished I was still locked up?” he finishes for me.

  He’s not wrong. He also doesn’t wait for a reply because he already knows the answer, along with a lot of other things I didn’t think he knew anything about.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you or…”

  “Mindy,” I answer, finally saying her name aloud.

  “The name. Your sister. Mindy.” he says with a smile that I want to rip off his face. He has my sister locked in a trailer and doesn’t even
know her name or which of my sisters he has.

  I straighten my shoulders. “Yes, that’s her name,” I reply, “Mindy.” It feels good to same her name, even if it’s to one of the men holding her hostage.

  “Alright, well, it was Darius’s idea to give her to you as a wedding gift or some shit. She wasn’t in good shape when he brought her here.”

  “What happened to her? Where has she been all this time?”

  “I’m not sure really. But Darius doesn’t want me to give her to you if she’s not in good shape.”

  “You mean he wants you to kill her,” I accuse.

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean. Listen, I’m a monster, but even that’s out of my fucking realm. I think she’ll pull through just fine. But, I’m going to need you to trust me and stay away. You can go back to swearing under your breath and giving me fake smiles later. Right now, just promise me. No more looking around, because trust me, you’re not going to like what you find.” He sighs and mutters something barely audible. Something that sounds a lot like, I know I didn’t.

  “I understand what you’re trying to tell me,” I reply, “but you’re not telling me why.”

  “You’re smart, Mickey. Stay that way. Use that big brain of yours. Keep your head down. You don’t have to like me. You just have to trust me enough to let me do my thing and keep you alive.”

  “Mindy, too?” I ask.

  He pauses. “Mindy, too. Do we have an understanding?”

  I stand from the bed and approach Percy. “We do, but promise me that when the time comes, you’ll help me get her out of here,” I say. “Because you’re right. She shouldn’t be here.”

  “I can promise that I’ll try,” he says, holding out his hand.

  I look at his hand, but I don’t take it. “That’s not good enough.”

  He rolls his eyes and extends his hand again. “I promise that I’ll try to get her out of here before the wedding. Mindy. I’ll try to get Mindy out of here before the wedding.”

  The wedding. Our wedding.

  It’s an ice-cold reminder that I’m working on a timeline.

  The wedding is in two weeks. That’s all the time I have to get my sister out of this place before I have to face The Reich and make vows to Percy that I never intend to keep, and this complicated storyline becomes even more tragic.

  The old school bell rings, indicating the beginning of the Reich’s weekly meeting.

  “I have so many questions,” I tell him.

  He frowns and waits for the bell to stop ringing. “I’ll never be able to give you most of the answers you want, but just trust me. Please. Just this once.”

  I’m not sure if he’s making me a promise or a threat, but regardless, there’s a lot more going on in this place and with Percy than I’ve suspected. He’s suddenly become a more complicated character in this terrible story. I’m more than a little curious to find out what motivations are behind his new role.

  Also, how can I promise to keep away from Mindy when I’ve just found her again? When, regardless of what he says, she could still be in danger?

  “Stop.” Percy opens the door. “Don’t even think what you’re thinking, Mickey.”

  I cross my arms stubbornly over my chest. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  His smile is sad. “I do. It’s written all over your face…and it’s gonna fucking get you killed.”

  4

  Pike

  “Machine Head” by Bush blares through my truck speakers, fueling me forward. I lower it as I turn down a back road that runs parallel to the one that houses the compound of The Fourth Reich. I keep my headlights on until I find the path I need to turn onto that will take me through the field. I flip the lights off as my truck tires leave the pavement. I bump along the path, then kill the engine when I’ve gotten as far as I can unnoticed. I keep the key in the ignition, so the music keeps playing, but lower it even more. I don’t need to. It’s not like they’d be able to hear the music from my truck over the screaming and scratching blaring through their speakers that punches at my chest with every beat.

  It’s garbage music, but it fits the Reich perfectly.

  Because just like them, it has no rhythm, no rhyming, and no fucking reason.

  It’s like they’re all a bunch of fucking kids rebelling against their parents.

  I’m all about being the rebel, but there’s a difference between fighting against a true enemy and fighting against one you gotta create in order to win.

  These bitches are so weak, they pick battles with people that don’t even know there’s a war.

  It’s fucking laughable. What’s next, picking a fight with grandma over what kind of tea she serves? It’s ridiculous and just as pointless.

  I’m not the smartest man in the world, but even I can see there’s no fucking logic behind their shit. Just a bunch of misguided fucking kids finding the wrong purpose. Screaming for attention, trying to be heard over all the fucking noise.

  The smell from the bonfire permeates the air. A scent I’m naming hickory, hicks, and hate.

  I watch the crowd for a while, and just when I think I’m not going to see her, there she is. Mickey appears, wandering around the party, staying mostly on the outside of the crowd.

  My chest tightens, and my cock leaps with fucking delight.

  Talk about no logic. My dick doesn’t seem to have any.

  “Down boy, she could be a bad girl,” I mutter.

  It doesn’t listen.

  “Not that kind of bad girl,” I grumble, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  Although, the image of tying her to my bed right now, naked and spread before me, punishing her, isn’t exactly an unwelcome one.

  She’s wearing a denim skirt and a black tank top, showing off the brand on her shoulder she spent the entire time at my place trying to hide. Not anymore. Now, it’s proudly on display. A mark that proves to the Reich that she’s one of them.

  It makes my stomach turn to think of her as one of them. As sick as the thought is, and as probable as it is, I don’t want to believe it’s true. All that time in the alley caring for fucking cats? It gives me hope that she can’t possibly hold the kind of hate in her heart needed to associate with these fucks.

  But that’s why I’m here. To find out the truth.

  I’ll give her fucking credit though. Whatever side she’s manipulating, she’s good at it. There’s no doubt about that. It’s almost funny how you can make someone believe something that they want to see. And also to her credit, Mickey is fucking brave. The brand. The way she stood up to me when I had her locked up in my fucking garage? She’s capable of anything, and it both terrifies me and turns me the fuck on.

  I see Percy, chugging a beer with a big, burly guy who then crushes the can against his forehead as Mickey watches. The big guy gives a victorious yell, then wobbles from foot to foot, either because of the impact of the can or drunkenness. Possibly a little of both.

  I roll my eyes as Percy lifts another one, and they repeat the process to the roaring cheers of the other morons eager to gain the approval of their future almighty leader.

  Seriously, they should make a documentary about these people. If nothing else, it would be good for a laugh.

  Shit, I’m not the smartest man, but these motherfuckers make me feel like I’ve gained a few IQ points in the few minutes I’ve been watching them.

  The big guy spins in a circle, victoriously accepting the applause for his drunken idiocy. Percy claps and slaps the guy on the back. I can’t help but think of how easy it would be right now.

  It would only take one call to Sniper. He’s in Bear’s crew and ex-military. For a small fee or hell, probably just a six pack or the fun of it, I could have him pick these motherfuckers off one by one. Pink mist everywhere.

  No more Fourth Reich.

  But that can wait, because right now I’m here for a reason, and right now, that reason is bending over to pick up the discarded beer cans Percy and his buddy just tosse
d to the ground. I catch a full glimpse of her rounded backside filling out her jean skirt. My cock twitches again. “It’s not that kind of confrontation,” I remind him out loud because I’m a crazy person now who talks to his cock. And partly because I wish it was that kind of confrontation.

  Mickey looks around, then slowly makes her way into the dark toward the back of the building where not a single light shines through any of the windows.

  Whatever kind of confrontation it is, it’s happening now.

  Tonight will decide Mickey’s fate.

  And mine.

  Mickey

  Promises are the sweetest kind of lies. Also, they mean nothing spoken from a place of desperation, and that so happens to be exactly the place I find myself in. Lost in a void of desperation. Consumed with only the thoughts and desire to get to Mindy. All while playing the devoted fiancé to the future leader of The Reich at yet another shit-show of a party celebrating what, I’m not exactly sure. I never am.

  Sneaking away from the party isn’t easy. I wait for forever for what feels like the perfect moment when I think I won’t be missed. I find that moment between the forehead beer crushing competition and the how fast can you run through the bonfire without burning to death dare.

  Slowly, I back away from the crowd until I’m fully enveloped in the shadows of the side of the building. Once I know I can’t be seen, I turn and run at full speed. When I reach the lighted courtyard, I slow my pace. I come across a couple walking back into the main building. We exchange polite greetings and I try not to breathe too heavily and show my exertion. The second they’re gone from view, I race to the trailer, and I throw open the door.

  Only, it’s empty. At least, it’s empty of Mindy. All that remains are the mattresses and other crap that were there before. Even the cage that was under the window is now gone.