Rip's Baby: Hounds of Hades MC

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Rip's Baby: Hounds of Hades MC Page 31

by Nicole Fox


  Footsteps sounded softly as the two men came back down the carpeted hallway.

  I pressed up against the wall of the hallway, trying to make myself as small as possible. I held the vase in my hands, ready to strike as soon as the security guard walked by.

  “Get this kind of shit a lot?” Wilde asked as both men passed by, drawing the security guard’s attention from the hallway I was hiding in.

  “A little bit. Some of the customers get—”

  I stepped forward and brought the vase down on the back of his head. The ceramic container shattered like a clap of thunder, and the security guard dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Get his gun!” I hissed. “Get it!”

  Tanner immediately dropped to his knees, began rummaging around in the security guard’s coat, and pulled a gun out. He looked timid as all hell with it. “What do I do with this thing?” he asked as he got back up to his feet.

  “You don’t know how to use a gun?” I hissed. “I thought all men did.”

  “I was raised in California, baby. Think I know how to shoot? That’s just for the movies.”

  “Give it here, then. I was raised in Texas, and we have to know how to graduate high school.”

  “Seriously?” he asked as we exchanged knife for handgun.

  I hefted the weight of the pistol in my hand. It was a composite, nothing heavy duty, but still heavier than it looked. “No, Tanner. Not really. But I do know how to shoot. You point this end right here at whatever you want to hit.”

  Tanner looked down at the knife in his hand, at the way the light reflected off the sharpened edge. His face was sickly, a light green to it.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, looking back down the hall to the dungeon.

  “I’ve been thinking, Micah,” he said, his voice suddenly more serious than I’d heard it all night. He looked at me dead on. “I don’t think I can do this. Knocking guys out, fighting sex traffickers? This ain’t my bag. I’m not the hero type. This is the kind of gig your man signs up for, not me.”

  “Get a little too real?” I asked. “Because, believe me, I understand. If you want to back out, don’t worry about me. I’m just doing this because she’s my friend and she doesn’t deserve it. No one does.”

  He smiled, looked back to the knife, then down to the security guard at his feet. “You know what? You’re right. What else have I been doing with my life, anyways? Besides, this has been a hell of a rush so far.”

  “Coming with, then? ’Cause this is it. No backing out when we get down there. We get caught, we’re both screwed.”

  Wilde nodded, grinned without any humor behind it. He gripped the knife tighter. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  I nodded and headed down the hallway. As I did, the realization slapped me in the face like a three-day old fish. Was I really about to go down there, gun in hand, half naked, so I could try and save Kessa, and maybe some of the other girls? All with some Hollywood agent to the stars who’d just found his backbone?

  Jesus Christ, this was ridiculous. Why hadn’t I just run with Ford when Daddy gave us the chance? Why hadn’t I just taken off, like he’d originally wanted?

  We got to the heavy door and unlocked it.

  “Ready for this?” I asked Wilde.

  He swallowed, nodded. “Yeah,” he groaned, his voice still nasally.

  I pulled the door open and I immediately heard Kessa crying. Sobbing as the sound of a leather lash cracked across skin. “The more you cry, Kessa,” groaned a voice, “the more I enjoy this.” Another crack. “And the more I enjoy this, the harder I hit.” Another crack, with Kessa’s muffled sobbing even louder.

  Quietly, we headed down the stairs with me in the lead, my pistol at the ready. The lashing, and Kessa’s not quieter sobbing, continued till we were almost down to the bottom of the steps. As my foot creaked on the middle one, though, the lashings stopped.

  “Who’s there?” barked a voice. “Huh?”

  Without looking back to Wilde, I headed all the way down.

  There, naked except for a pair of tight leather pants, stood an older white guy, his slight belly hanging over the top of his waistband. Chained spread-eagle to a steel cross to one side of the room, Kessa stood, her beautiful body covered in bright scarlet strips, a ball gag in her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

  He turned and looked back at us, mopping a hand over his sweet-sheened bald plate. “Who the fuck are you?” he sneered, looking from me to Wilde as he dropped the leather lash to his side. “What the fuck are you doing down here? That fat fuck Williams said I had the dungeon all to myself for the next hour.” His eyes shifted to me, creeping over my form like some sick predator. “Although, sweetie, if you two wanna join in, we got plenty of room.”

  I gripped the pistol in both hands and raised it in front of me, getting a bead on him.

  “Hey, hey,” he said, not even bothering to raise his hands. “You know just who the fuck I am, little lady? Huh?”

  I didn’t recognize him, not by his looks. But I sure recognized that voice of his. I took a deep breath, nodded. “I know exactly who are, asshole.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ford

  The office was only guarded by one guy, and he didn’t take much effort since I had the drop on him. I cracked him a few times on the head to make sure he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon and grabbed his pistol from his shoulder holster, stuffing it down the back of my slacks.

  I headed into the office.

  Daddy Williams’ back corner was disheveled, with papers all over his big desk and piled up in the corners. Behind the desk was a huge safe with a digital keypad. The right-hand wall was more or less half a set of shelves, with videos lined up on every shelf, names printed nearly on the labels. Set up just across from the desk, within perfect view of Daddy Williams’ chair, was a monitor focused on the dungeon.

  Curious, I went over and read through the names. They were all girls’ names with last names after, and the date listed. I recognized one as the chief of police, another as the mayor.

  So, that was how he stayed in business. Blackmail. I glanced over to the safe. Micah had told me the combination, and I knew I could get in. As I went over to it, though, I glanced over at the dungeon monitor and got the shock of my life. Right there, in perfect color, were Micah and the Hollywood agent, who I guess had stuck around. Micah was armed now with a pistol. And who should she be pointing it at but Joseph Tambor, my loan shark?

  “Dammit, Micah!” I yelled. “Just what we fucking need!” I glanced back to the safe, to my whole goal in all this. The money, of course. Whatever cash he had in there from the entry fee, I was sure to have enough to start a new life with Micah, somewhere else, somewhere far, far away from here. But as I glanced at the camera, as I glanced at Tambor approaching them slowly, easily, and Micah backing away and giving him ground, I knew she needed my help. And I realized as I watched the videotape, if she ever did make it big, that little performance we’d put on would be more than enough for some kinky blackmail.

  I glanced over the rest of the shelf and was surprised to find one near the top right with two names I instantly recognized. Micah Ford, with today’s date. I pulled the tape down, stripped the magnetic tape from it, and shredded it with my pocket knife.

  Frantically, I glanced up at the monitor. Tambor had backed off now, and Mr. Hollywood had started to get Kessa down from the cross she’d been chained to. I looked back to the safe, silently shaking my head. No, it would have to wait. Instead I turned back to the screen and quickly ripped the monitor from the wall, tearing the cables from the box.

  No matter how the next thirty minutes went, I had a feeling no one would want any evidence hanging around.

  I ran from the office, taking the twists and turns I remembered would take me back to the dungeon. I nearly stumbled across a security guard on the carpet of the hall just down the way from my destination, a halo of shattered pottery around his equally shattered head. I kicked him again and kep
t running.

  I stopped at the top of the dungeon steps, drew my pistol, and headed down. I could hear them talking back and forth, Kessa quietly groaning as they pulled her down.

  “Look, honey,” Tambor said. “I don’t give two shits about you. You can stay or you can fucking go. But, while you decide what you’re going to do, why don’t you point that little popgun somewhere else, huh? You’re making me fucking nervous.”

  “Back off,” Micah said, her voice so cold she could solve global warming. “One more step.”

  I slowly made my way down the steps, not wanting to startle anyone and throw sparks on this pile of tinder.

  “And what?” Tambor asked. “You’ll shoot me, huh?”

  I crept down into the room, barely making a sound. I got a good look at the four of them, at a beautiful but ragged-looking woman being held weakly in Wilde’s arms. Micah stood on one side, her handgun raised and ready; Tambor stood just a few feet from her between them all.

  “Don’t make me do it,” Micah said. “Don’t make me fucking shoot you, Tambor.”

  “Don’t think you got the cojones, little lady. I think you’re chicken shit.” He took a step forward.

  I stepped forward at the same time, the bottom step groaning loudly as I landed too heavily on it.

  Everyone turned their attention to me. Kessa and Wilde both turned to me, eyes searching to see if I was a threat, and Micah’s gun wavered for a moment as her eyes shot to mine. “Ford!”

  Tambor took the opportunity, though, and lunged forward, ripping the gun from Micah’s hands, knocking her aside. She flailed, tripped over her heels, and went sprawling on the floor.

  I started forward to try and help her, to see if she was injured. “Micah!”

  “No way, Ford!” Tambor yelled, the pistol leveled right at me. “No fucking way! One step forward, you all fucking get it! Wanna try me? You wanna try me and see who gets to go fucking first? Huh?”

  I raised my hand and twisted the gun up and away so Tambor knew it wasn’t pointed his direction. “Hey, we’re cool, okay? We just wanna take the girl and get outta here, Joseph. That’s all.”

  “You do, huh?” Tambor growled at me. “Without paying your fucking debt, I take it?”

  I groaned. “I see you haven’t forgotten about it, yet.”

  “No fucking way I’ve fucking forgotten about it, you motherfucker. You think I’d forget anything? Think that’s how I got to where I fucking am? By forgetting even small debts?”

  “What do you want, then?” I asked, my vision completely focused on Tambor. “You want me? You wanna make an example of me and let everyone else go? Is that it?”

  “Know what? Yeah, yeah, that’s a fucking start. You guys interrupted me while I was having some fun with sweet little Kessa here. Might as well enjoy some time with you, Ford. What do you think? A couple hours tied to the rack, with a whip, then we take a trip out to the desert? Find a nice fucking rock to bury your ass under. Even if someone comes sniffing after you, cops ain’t gonna do a damn thing. Sheriff Watts’s up to his gills in debt with me.”

  “If that’s what it takes,” I said, nodding as I walked closer. “If that’s what it takes. You leave them outta this, you got a deal.”

  “Drop the gun, Ford. Right there.”

  I stepped forward a couple more steps than I should have, set the pistol down on the ground between us, stood back up, and raised my now empty hands.

  “Good enough?” I asked, showing him my empty palms. “You want me, you got me. Now let them go.”

  Tambor laughed. “I said that’d be a fucking start, you fucking muppet. I’m taking it out on both these whores, too, and this other fucking jerk off. What’s his name?”

  I lunged forward as he glanced towards Wilde, my elbow flying into his temple, my other hand gripping the gun and pointing it at the ground, away from everyone.

  Tambor pulled the trigger twice, discharging the pistol into the floor. “Ford!” Micah screamed.

  I slammed him in the temple again, and he dropped as I ripped the gun from his hand.

  “Nicely done, Ford,” Daddy Williams said, clapping his hands softly. With all the ruckus going on we must not have heard him coming the stairs. “Nicely done.” He heaved himself down off the steps, gun clutched in one meaty hand.

  “Thanks, Williams,” I growled, putting the gun on the floor for the second time in less than five minutes. This shit was getting ridiculous. “Guess we’ll be going now, like you said.”

  Daddy laughed. “Y’all leaving? Fuck, no. Fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, fuck you, you piece of shit. You and Micah have caused me no goddamned end of misery in the last forty-eight hours. Nothing but a goddamn nightmare. And you, Kessa? You used to be my best girl. Look at what you’ve done. Can’t even line up for the cattle call right, you stupid bitch.”

  Daddy saw Micah eyeing the pistol on the ground. “Whoa there, now. You two back away from them guns. I don’t trust you two.”

  Micah and I grumbled and stepped away from the pistols on the floor. I put a hand around her waist, pulling her close to me. “Well,” she said with a sigh, “it was worth a try, right?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed solemnly as I squeezed her around the waist. “Right.”

  He must have thought Kessa and Wilde were the lesser of the two threats, because the way he moved they were clearly out of his line of sight. “Know what I’m going to do to you two?” Daddy asked as he stepped up closer to us, his fat lips twisting and turning like writhing worms. “I’m gonna do exactly what Tambor was, but I’m gonna make a real show of it. Do it up right, right in front of everyone. Right there in the ballroom, front of all these guests, and make all the girls watch me. That way, Micah, they know exactly what crossing me gets them.”

  Micah shrank back from his spittle-flying words, practically crawling into my side.

  “Fuck you, Don,” I said, accentuating his name, one eye watching Kessa behind him as she crept closer. “Fuck you, and fuck your Mansion. These girls know how big of a piece of shit loser you are. Everyone in town knows you’re a fucking loser, and you stringing me and Micah up in front of them isn’t going to change that.”

  His face twisted more violently, growing redder and redder.

  “Yeah,” Micah chimed in. “You’re just a fat fucking has-been, Don. You’re lucky Tambor was able to loan you money, or else this place would have gone down the drain like your reputation years ago.”

  His hand shaking in rage, Daddy raised the pistol and leveled it right at us.

  God, I hoped Kessa could do it. I closed my eyes and Micah squeezed me more tightly, pushing the breath from my lungs. I drew her against me. If we were going to go out like this, I wanted to be holding her as tightly as I could while we did.

  Micah and I both jumped as the gun fired, the shot filling the tight space like an explosion, sending my ears ringing. The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

  “Fuck you, Daddy!” Kessa screamed as I opened my eyes.

  Don “Daddy” Williams just stared at us blankly, his eyes focused on no point in particular. A little bubble of blood came up to his mouth, burst wetly, and began to trickle from the corner of his lips as he fell to his knees, then on his face at our feet.

  I looked past him at Kessa, still holding the smoking gun, her eyes alight with rage as she shook uncontrollably. Wilde had already come up behind her and was soothing her. “Kessa, baby, it’s all right, honey. It’s all right.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed with him, stepping forward and easing the gun from her hand. “It’s okay, Kessa. You did what you had to do.” I wiped down the trigger guard, the handle.

  Fresh tears burst from her eyes and she turned to Wilde, throwing herself at him. He wrapped her up in his arms, held her close, and stroked her hair. “It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear. “It’s okay, baby. We’re going to get you out of this, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Micah piped up. “You’ll see. Everything’s going to be okay. Right, Ford?


  “Of course it is,” I said as I stuffed the pistol that had shot Daddy Williams into Tambor’s unconscious hand.

  “Hey!” called a man’s voice from the top of the stairs as they came rushing down the stairs. “Williams? You down here? I thought I heard gunshots!”

  I glanced up over at the stairs, and who should be there but Sheriff Watts, gun drawn. From the mariachi costume he was wearing, he’d clearly been in attendance at the party. He swept his gaze over the four of us, then settled on Don’s corpse on the floor and the passed out and groaning Joseph Tambor. Before I could say anything, Micah was already swinging into action.

  “Sheriff Watts!” she called, running to him. “Thank God you’re here! Kessa and I came down here with these two nice men for some, well, you know, and we saw them fighting it out!”

 

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