by M. N. Forgy
“Who’s your husband?” Bull asks, crossing his arms.
“His name is Doctor Travis Norwell, and he has connections everywhere, everyone is in his pocket,” Jessica whispers into her daughter’s hair, rocking the little girl back and forth.
“All right, let me talk to my boys, and we’ll see what we can do,” Bull says gravely, before leaving the room.
“Have you eaten?” I ask, surveying her and the child; they look like hell.
She sniffs and runs her hand along the bottom of her nose. “No, I left with what cash I could grab. I ran out of money this morning, and we have been driving on fumes the last half hour.”
“Where are you from?” Shadow asks, widening his stance.
“Nevada,” she replies quickly.
“That’s a hell of a drive. What made you come here?” Shadow interrogates.
“I was in town; saw the motorcycles going back and forth. I decided to try my luck and followed the bikes here, hoping for a trade in services,” she says with a shaky voice, lifting her head to meet me with gorgeous blue orbs. Her eyes hide a vibrant light, an enigma to what state her appearance is in.
There is something about this woman. Besides her beautiful face and bravery, something about her has a hold on me and I can’t figure out what it is. Her lips part as a tear rolls over the bridge of her nose and free falls, planting itself right on the top of her lip. Her eyes still staring at me, captivating me, I reach forward and brush the tear from her split lip. She winces, making me retrieve my hand quickly.
“If the club votes against your behalf, then you can come stay with me,” I offer, the words taking me by surprise.
“What the fuck, man?” Shadow growls, hitting my foot with his boot. “You’re a fucking prospect. You piss off Bull and you can kiss your ass goodbye.”
I scowl at him.
The child stirs in her lap, catching Jessica’s attention. She begins to rock the child again and hums. I can’t look away. The damaged woman, who holds a beauty like no one I have seen before, intrigues me. Her vibrating hum reminds me of a hummingbird. The sound so sensual, so innocent. My mouth turns from a frown into a smirk.
“How old is she?” My question throws Jessica off guard, her eyes pop open, and she stops humming.
“She just turned three,” she says, brushing a strand of hair from the little girl’s face.
“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”
“Addie,” she whispers. Addie moves her head slightly and looks at me, her innocent eyes staring into mine. A sudden feeling of protectiveness of Addie and her mother surges through me, taking me off guard, but I accept the idea of being protective of the pair sitting before me. They need saving and I’m the man to do it. I will make whoever did this to them suffer.
“Shadow, Bobby, bring Jessica to the chapel,” Old Guy yells from down the hall.
Jessica stands on wobbly feet, the little girl clinging around her neck.
“Follow me,” Shadow orders sternly, as he walks out of the room.
She looks at me with frightened eyes, her lips parted with terror.
“You’ll be all right,” I ensure, placing my hand on the small of her back.
After Jessica enters the chapel, I slide back onto the stool I was sitting on minutes ago, before Jessica showed up.
“You better get your shit together,” Shadow scolds, his eyebrows raised in warning.
“Fuck you, Shadow. This club is that woman’s last hope. Anyone can see that,” I respond curtly.
Hawk staggers out of the chapel doors, his mustache shifting from grumbling under his breath, and makes his way out the front door hastily.
“Where the hell is he going?” Shadow asks, looking at the front door.
“Not a clue,” I shrug.
Seconds later, Hawk enters the club carrying a big black purse under his arm, cursing under his breath some more. That must be Jessica’s purse.
“Well, that explains that,” I chuckle. Fifteen minutes later, Jessica leaves the chapel with tears streaming down her face. I immediately stand, nervous at what fate the club had given her.
“Just head back down the hall to the room you were in previously,” Old Guy instructs, his hand pointing down the hall. Jessica looks my way, her face etched with sorrow and holding me in place, before heading down the dimly lit hall.
“Bobby, Shadow, Bull wants you two,” Old Guy informs, before stepping back into the room.
“Shit,” Shadow curses, sliding off the stool.
“We are taking Jessica’s deal,” Bull informs, his arms bending at the elbow as he rests his hands at the back of his head.
“Okay,” I encourage him to continue, my forehead gathering sweat from the order.
“How are we taking care of the husband?” Shadow asks out of turn.
Bull snaps his gaze from the table to Shadow. “So glad you asked, son. It appears this guy is as dirty as they come. He will come looking for the woman and child, and when he does, I have no doubt he will make them suffer, possibly kill them,” Bull says, his tone low with anger.
“He hits on the kid?” Shadow asks, his brows knitted together with shock.
Bull nods, his eyes closed.
The girl’s cheek was red when she came in. I assumed being a child she fell, not that a grown man hit her.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, anger flooding my bloodstream.
“Take him out,” Bull says matter-of-factly, “and you and Shadow are going to be the ones to do it.” Bull slides something across the table in Shadow’s direction. I reach forward and grab it before Shadow has a chance to take hold of it, finding it to be a photograph.
“That’s the husband,” Bull informs. “Make sure you get the right one. Jessica said he has a brother who looks similar, but he’s been MIA for the last month.”
I study the photo. The guy has light-colored hair that is short, a little longer at the bangs. His eyes are blue, so light they look gray, and they hold a menacing edge to them. His cheeks are high and his jaw curves down to a point, his bright white smile blinding. He looks like one of the villains off a movie. My fingers curl around the photo, the urge to mangle him unbearable.
“Take him out, now,” Bull demands, his tone threatening as he slams the gavel down.
***
11 Hours Later
“This car smells,” I sniff, looking around at the fast-food bags, and empty cups littering the floorboard.
“If you didn’t have to stop every three hours to eat, it wouldn’t smell like a dumpster,” Shadow says flatly, staring out the windshield. I scoff; we only stopped twice.
“When was he supposed to be off work again?” I search the trash in the floorboard for the photograph Bull gave us to ID the husband.
Shadow looks at the digital clock on the dash. “Anytime now.”
I stare up at the hospital. It’s tall and white, with windows lining every floor. Jessica told Bull this hospital would be the best place to get to the husband, because their house would be loaded with security.
The sounds of a high-pitched squeal grab my attention. I look out the window to a guy twirling a dark-haired woman in pink scrubs, right in front of the hospital doors. He sets the skinny brunette on her feet, and gives her ass a hard slap making her laugh loudly. He shakes his head and walks toward the brightly lit parking lot as she heads inside the hospital. The streetlights cast a bright light across him as he passes us, but he seems oblivious anyone is in here. He looks up at the streetlight as he passes, making the glow illuminate his features. His hair is lightly colored, matching the guy’s in the photograph. His face is sharp, menacing, and vicious. He turns to look down the street, his eyes catching mine. I inhale sharply, my heart beating against my chest with vengeance.
“That’s him,” I say softly.
“Are you sure?” Shadow asks, grabbing the photo from my hand, his eyes squinting as he takes in the photo.
“I can’t tell. It’s too dark to get a clear identificatio
n,” Shadow says, flicking the photograph with his finger.
A dark-colored Corvette tears out of the parking lot, catching Shadow’s attention from the photo.
“What kind of car did Bull say he would be driving?” I ask, my eyes following the sports car out of the drive.
“Black Corvette, is what Jessica told him,” Shadow says, sighing.
Shadow has a knack for this kind of thing, hunting people down and taking them out for the club. I have been with him on a couple of these outings. He takes in everything, analyzes every scenario possible; he’s very thorough. I have seen him take days to gather information on a hit before going in. We don’t have days. This guy is going to notice his wife and daughter missing, and is going to have a search party after her quickly. I start the SUV and slam it into gear.
“What the fuck are you doing, Bobby?” Shadow asks, his tone loud and angry.
“Taking him out.” I press my foot on the accelerator to catch up to the Corvette, leaving the hospital parking lot.
“You don’t know if that’s him. You can’t do this half ass!” Shadow yells, trying to grab the wheel.
“It’s him! He is identical to the photo and drives the same colored car, Shadow. We don’t have time for your ten-step program on how to kill a mark,” I explain as we catch up to the speeding car.
“Fuck you, Bobby. My work isn’t sloppy, and this is sloppy,” Shadow insults, his finger pointing downward. I take my eyes off the road and lift my brow at Shadow’s tone; he’s pissing me off.
“I’m not doing a job like this, so you might as well turn this car around,” Shadow informs. Angry, I pound my fist at the steering wheel. The rubber laced around it cuts into my knuckles. When we do a job like this, Shadow is the one who gets his hands dirty. Delivering the final blow to take the target out. He knows killing isn’t my thing. That final look in someone’s eyes before you take their life causes me to hesitate. This guy I’m following though, I don’t feel that hesitation. All I see is that little girl’s red cheek and the blood smeared across Jessica’s face. I grit my teeth and slam my foot on the accelerator again.
“Who says you’re taking this dirt bag out?” I question hastily.
“What are you doing, Bobby?” Shadow asks, shaking his head at me.
We round a sharp corner, our car feet away from the Corvette’s bumper. I press my foot on the gas to urge us forward.
“Bobby,” Shadow cautions, throwing me a look of concern, as our car inches near the bumper.
“Hold on,” I warn, taking a large breath, and push the pedal to the metal.
Our SUV rears forward, barely clipping the side of the Corvette. Our vehicle swerves as the Corvette veers off the road and crashes into a tree.
I wrestle the steering wheel, trying to gain control, the tires screeching as we turn in a complete circle before coming to a stop.
I look over at Shadow, both of us breathing with excitement.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Shadow says out of breath.
I climb out of the SUV and grab the pistol out of my waistband, cocking it back to load a bullet into the chamber.
I hear Shadow’s footsteps round up behind me, his gun clicking with noise as he loads it.
I come over the lip of the road and see the Corvette smashed against a thick tree trunk, smoke and hissing noises coming from the hood.
The driver door is pushed open and a man in blue scrubs falls out groaning, his head is bleeding, and there is blood smeared across the cracked windshield.
“I think I might be hurt,” the guy grumbles.
“I’m sorry about that. Let me help you up,” I sneer. I plow my boot into his stomach, making him lose his balance. He falls on his back, his eyes looking up at me. They are blue, making me think of the blonde goddess he mangled like a rag doll. I kick him in the ribs hard, making him roll over in pain. I dig my boot into his back, leaning down, and fishing out his wallet.
“Travis Norwell,” I read loudly, confirming to Shadow that this is the scumbag we are looking for. Shadow scoffs, folding his arms in front of his chest.
“We don’t have time for this shit, Bobby. We’re in the open here. Do the job so we can get out of sight,” Shadow scolds.
I toss the wallet at Shadow, and grab the back of Travis’s hair, my boot still in his back, making him arch his neck back painfully.
“The things I would do to you if I had time. I would pull you limb from limb, burn the skin off your fucking dick. I would torture the hell out of you,” I threaten, my teeth clenching, my body shaking with incorrigible rage.
“What do you want from me?” he sobs, his voiced strained from the awkward position his neck is in.
“Retribution,” I whisper into his ear. I let go of his hair, letting his head thump against the ground hard. The impact making him clench his jaw, and groan in pain.
I close my eyes, trying to get a hold of myself, but all I see is the look of fear written on Jessica and her daughter’s face. My nose flares, and my blood runs cold. I yell into the night air, slamming my boot into Travis’s face as hard as I can. Bone cracks beneath my boot, the blood against my foot making the most disgruntled of noises as it spits across my foot. I slam my boot down again and again, my knee and ankle screaming from the impact.
“Bobby!” Shadow yells. I look down at Travis. His face is torn apart, his mouth whimpering with pain and fear.
“Fucking do it already,” Shadow demands. I have seen Shadow kill. He never plays with his food; he does it clean and quick. So it’s no wonder he is looking at me with concern.
I take in a ragged breath and point it at Jessica’s husband’s head. When he realizes my intentions, his eyes flare wide, what’s left of them anyways. That look, the look of life fleeing a body when the reaper is breathing heavy on their neck, comes forth. I close my eyes and pull the trigger. Ending the suffering of Jessica and her daughter, allowing them to live in freedom and not in fear. My nostrils flare as a rush of relief escapes me. Travis will no longer be a danger to Jessica or her daughter anymore. I did that. I was the one who rid them of their burden. The feeling of finally doing something good and not completely fucking it up is deafening.
“You all right?” Shadow asks, stepping up beside me, taking me from that place of numbness.
I open my eyes and look at Shadow, the anger of the situation still pulsating through me. “I’m fine. Let’s get this cleaned up.” I side step Shadow and head to the SUV to get the plastic.
“We need to make sure we scrap this SUV,” Shadow mutters, walking behind me. “There’s evidence all over it.”
“Yeah, but the job is done,” I remind him.
***
I enter the club in search of Jessica and her daughter, but I come up empty. I need to see the woman I killed for, the child I saved.
“What are you looking for?” Hawk asks, with a twisted face.
“Where is the woman and child?” I respond.
“I sent them back to Nevada,” Bull interrupts, stepping out of the kitchen doors.
“What? Why, I thought we made a trade in services,” I ask confused.
Bull tilts his head to the side; his eyes squinted with concern. “I needed her to play the grieving wife when her husband didn’t return home the next day. She’ll be back in a month or two, if not, you and Shadow will be retrieving her for me,” Bull says, knocking his knuckles on the bar’s counter.
I nod in understanding.
I walk back outside, rest my hands on my hips, tilt my head back, and breathe in the crisp air. What a fucking night. I close my eyes, the image of Jessica looking at me dancing behind my eyelids. I let out a breath and hang my head forward. There is something about that chick, the way she looked at me, the way she made me feel like… like the fucking world as I knew it had been upside down, and suddenly went right side up when she walked in. I lift my head and open my eyes. I gotta get a hold of myself. She’ll be back, and when she does, I’ll be waiting for her.
1
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Bobby
PRESENT
My eyes crack open from the unfiltered sunlight splitting through the room landing right on my face, blinding me. I groan and sit up, my body aching from the abuse of the night before. I rub the sleep from my eyes and feel something gently press into my leg. Out of reflex, my head snaps to the side, causing my head to pound instantly. I find a young blonde sleeping soundly, a pink blanket wrapped snugly around her naked frame. Fuck, not again. I throw my head back and sigh, running my hand over my face. I hate when I wake up in unknown places, which happens often.
I look around the room and notice an abundance of pink. The curtains frilly and pink, the walls covered in pink shit, and shelves full of useless fucking pink crap. It looks like a Barbie threw up in here. I slowly push my way off the bed trying to be quiet, praying not to wake…. Trina, Sara, hell , I have no clue what her name is. I grab my clothes off the floor and head to the door, making sure to open and close it as quietly as possible.
I step into a hall and immediately feel thick blue carpet squish between my toes. I look up and down the hall and find doors lined on both sides, girly shit hanging from them. I pull my jeans on, and dress myself quickly. I have no clue where I am. I really have to take it easy on the drugs and booze. I take a chance and go left, coming to a flight of white marble stairs. Looking over the banister, I notice a grand piano sitting below with glass windows lined along the wall. I hurry downstairs, taking two at a time as I shrug my cut on. Nearly tripping on the last step, I stop to tie my boot.
“Hi.”
I slowly take my gaze from my old boot to the voice. My heart slowly increasing its beat as my gaze rakes over a bunch of half-naked girls sitting around a breakfast bar and kitchen table. Catching a couple of the shirts they are wearing, displaying a weird A and O on it, I realize where I am. I’m at a sorority. Shit. There are blondes, brunettes, and redheads. A buffet of beautiful, young women. I let the breath I was holding out, my shoulders sagging with relief. I was not sure what I was going to see when I looked over, a pissed-off dad holding a shotgun maybe? Wouldn’t be the first time.