by Lane Hart
When she scoots close enough to me that the front of her body is pressed to my back like in the shower, my dick twitches in interest. That’s obviously not what Tessa has in mind, though, when she throws her arm over my waist, spooning me from behind with our clothes and the sheets between us and says, “Good night.”
“Good night,” I reply even though it’s almost lunchtime. For us, it’s well past time for some sleep after being awake for more than twenty-four hours.
In the back of my mind, I’m still thinking about the shit Roman said, that he wants me to turn in my cut when we get back home. He’s not a man who says things he doesn’t mean. I have no doubt that he was serious.
Losing the Savage Kings, not to mention my job, would be devastating, but I knew the possible consequences when I decided to do this for Tessa.
The worst thing Roman can do is to keep me away from her. I’m not sure if I could survive that because I know Tessa needs me. Maybe not in every way I want, but I’m certain that she feels safe with me and that she wants me.
My biggest fear, though, is unintentionally hurting her, doing something that will emotionally cripple her, like remind her of something one of those assholes did. If that happened, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Tessa
* * *
Two of the four men who hurt me are dead, and soon, after both of us slept soundly for six hours, Verek will end another one. Hopefully, the third will be as easy as the first two.
“Are you ready?” he asks, coming out of the hotel bathroom looking refreshed.
“I think so, yeah,” I agree. I woke up a few minutes before Verek and had my own quick shower. “Can we stop and get something to eat once we’re an hour or so out of town?”
“Absolutely,” Verek replies, rubbing a hand over his flat stomach through his T-shirt. “I’m starving.”
“First-degree murder is hard work,” I joke but then worry I should have kept my mouth closed.
But Verek just grins and says, “You’re right. It is.” He grabs his leather cut from the closet and lays it over his arm.
“You aren’t wearing your cut in case someone sees us or there are cameras?” I guess.
“Exactly.”
“And the helmet covers most of my red hair,” I remark.
“It does, even though I think we’re fine, despite Roman’s concerns.”
“Do you think he’ll beat us to Sneads Ferry?”
“I doubt it,” Verek replies. “He hasn’t had enough time to come up with a foolproof plan so he wouldn’t risk it. He doesn’t do anything half-assed.”
“But you do,” I state.
“I have some ideas for this next fucker Floyd. We’ll talk about them discreetly while we wait for our food. If that’s okay with you?”
“I can handle it,” I assure him. “What about the last one – Joey Simpson?” I ask. “The Kings are still holding him, right?”
“That’s the easiest one,” Verek says. “Once all the others are dead, we just put a bullet in his head. The boathouse is a shithole that needs to be pushed down anyway.”
“Roman will let you just walk in and kill him?”
“No point in stopping me after everything else I’ve done,” he mutters as he opens the hotel room door for me to walk through.
“Guess that’s true enough,” I say with a smile, looking forward to when this is all over with.
I’m just not sure what the ending will mean for me and Verek.
Chapter Ten
Verek
* * *
After we order our burgers and fries at the diner outside of Jacksonville and the waitress walks away to deal with one of her many other customers during the dinner rush, I pull out my notes I jotted down from Roman’s phone about the suspects.
“So,” I start. “As I mentioned before, our next guy works at a pawn shop. If he’s working when we get into town, we’ll find out the hours and wait for him at his home address. Supposedly he lives alone.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Tessa agrees just before the waitress delivers our sodas and walks away again. When she’s out of earshot, Tessa leans forward and whispers, “How are you gonna do this one?”
“I’m thinking we make it look like a suicide,” I answer softly while barely moving my lips. Dying of thirst, I pick up my soda and swallow it down until there’s nothing but ice left before I set it back down on the table. “If he has a garage, cranking the car while he’s passed out in it would be the easiest way. If not, we find some rope. Whatever we decide, we’ll leave a note, preferably on a computer or laptop instead of getting his handwriting wrong.”
“And what will the note say?” she asks before sipping her soda through a straw.
“The truth,” I reply. “That he was a rapist and couldn’t live with what he’s done any longer.”
“That could work,” she agrees with a nod as she lowers her eyes.
“I think we could even name the other three men, say they were also involved and that they’re on the run, trying to avoid arrest.”
“So that would make their disappearances less suspicious,” she remarks.
“Exactly. And as long as no one sees us at his house, then we’ll be in the clear.”
“It’s a great plan, Verek,” Tessa says. “Really. I’m sure Roman will get over it once you explain how careful we’ve been.”
“I don’t know, he’s so pissed he won’t hear anything I say for weeks,” I tell her honestly. “But I would rather him blame me for everything than be angry at you.”
“Charlotte will take my side and help calm Roman down,” Tessa says confidently. “Just be patient with him. He may need some space.”
“Oh, I have no doubt he’ll need space,” I agree, motioning for the waitress to refill my drink. “He’ll probably need at least a thousand miles between us.”
“A thousand miles?” Tessa repeats.
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me,” I say with a grin. “You just take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
Tessa
* * *
I didn’t like the way Verek said that, for me to take care of myself, like he’s not going to be around once we get back to town.
Roman is going to be furious at him, I’m sure, but everything will eventually get worked out between them. Right?
I don’t have time to ask him. As soon as we eat, we get back on the road and ride all the way to Sneads Ferry.
The motorcycle is growing on me, especially the part where I get to wrap my arms around Verek. It’s impossible to do so without thinking about earlier.
Was it really just this morning when I was getting him off in the shower?
It seems like a lifetime ago after sleeping for hours and riding again. At least it hasn’t made things weird between us. If anything, I feel closer to Verek which is silly and stupid.
As soon as we get back to town, he’ll probably go back to sleeping with a different woman every night from the club.
I’ve just gotten up enough courage to finally give in and touch him. I wish he could be patient with me, but that may be too much to ask of this playboy biker. Unlike killing these men which was quick, waiting for me to fix what they broke is going to take time. Most likely a lot of it.
All too soon we’re in the next town, parked a half a block away from the pawn shop in an old Main Street–style shopping center with several small mom-and-pop stores. There are only a few cars parked parallel in front of one or two stores, so either it’s a slow time of day or they don’t get much business through here.
“Are you sure this is it?” I ask Verek when he kills the engine.
“It’s the only pawn shop in town according to the notes Reece sent to Roman.”
When he climbs off the bike, I ask, “Wait. What are you doing?”
“I need to figure out when they close. I’ll go inside and look around, pick out something to pretend I’m interested in, and then say I need to think about it. That’s the perf
ect excuse to find out when they close today.”
“Are you sure? There could be cameras.”
“Probably, but there’s no reason for anyone to be suspicious of me. I’m just a shopper. Maybe I’ll even buy something when I’m there.”
“If you think that’s safe,” I reply. “Should I just wait here?”
“Yes, with your helmet on,” Verek says. His cut is in the saddle bag with our other things, and he is a pretty nondescript man – tall, lean with wide shoulders and arms, short bronze hair. Glancing around, I see a sporting goods shop just a few stores down on the strip.
“What about grabbing a baseball hat just in case,” I ask him. “You know, to shield some of your face in case of cameras.”
“Okay. I can do that,” he says when he spots the same store. “Good thinking, sweetheart. I’ll head in there and then to the pawn shop. Sit tight.”
“Good luck,” I whisper as he walks away.
Chapter Eleven
Verek
* * *
I pull my new, plain black baseball cap down low right before I walk up to the front of the pawn shop.
The sign in the dusty window lists the hours Monday through Friday as being open from 10:00 until 9:00 p.m., but I still plan to ask just to be sure.
As I step through the door, a cow bell rings above me, announcing my presence. I hope that means they prefer the good ole days and haven’t upped their security. How much crime could a small town like this really have?
“Can I help ya?” a man in his late twenties or early thirties with a dark brown mullet and a potbelly hanging over his saggy jeans says when he comes out from the back and stands behind a row of glass display cases. There’s a large, fresh yellow stain on his faded green T-shirt that must be food. Knowing this nasty asshole was likely one of the men who raped Tessa makes me want to slam his face into the glass. I refrain, clenching my fists by my sides before I try to stick with the plan.
“Do you have any nice jewelry? I’m looking to get my mother something for her birthday next week,” I lie as I approach the cases.
“We’ve got a few necklaces and watches,” he says while narrowing his eyes at me. “Where you from? I haven’t seen you around town before.”
“I’m just passing through, on my way north from a quick trip to Myrtle Beach, and decided to stop for some gas in town,” I tell him.
“Oh.” His pale blue eyes gleam like he just found a lottery ticket. He thinks I’m a sucker who will buy his worthless shit and pay twice what it’s worth.
“How much is that watch with the diamonds,” I ask, pointing to the feminine one on the end.
“Let me check the price.” He pulls out a set of keys to unlock the cabinet. He reaches for the watch and then quickly tugs off the tag that was on it. “This one is two thousand,” he says, placing it down on the counter and shoving the price tag into his pocket with the keys like I didn’t see his sleight of hand. If I had to bet, the watch is probably a fake and only worth about twenty dollars.
Still, I pick it up to examine it, turning it this way and that.
“It’s a nice one, but that’s a big price tag,” I tell him when I put it back down. “Let me think about it while I grab a bite to eat. How long will you be here tonight?” I ask.
“I’ll be open until nine,” he says when he places the watch back into the cabinet. “Since you’re a tourist just passing through, I guess I could probably let it go for fifteen hundred.”
“That’s a great deal,” I say, going along with his bullshit. “Still need to think about it and hit up the bank.”
“Right. Sure. I get it,” he says with an attitude. “It’s not in your price range. Just say so, buddy.”
Before I lose my temper with him in here, I turn around and say, “See ya,” then push through the door, glad to be out of there and getting back to Tessa. I know she doesn’t like being left alone, especially in an unfamiliar place even in broad daylight.
“So?” Tessa asks. “How did it go?”
“Well, I have no idea if he’s one of them or not, but he’s definitely a dick,” I mutter. “He’s probably twenty-nine as Reece’s research said. Do you remember a guy with a mullet? I don’t remember seeing one when you all did the sketches.”
“Yes!” she says without hesitation. “There was a mullet! I forgot about it until you mentioned it since I was so focused on their faces for the sketch artist.”
“So you remember him?” I ask through gritted teeth. “His name is Floyd.”
“I do remember him,” she agrees with a nod. “He-he was the one who pulled out a chunk of my hair and then put it in his pocket.”
“Your hair? He kept it?”
“Yes. It hurt. He was weird – even the others thought so.”
“I noticed,” I mutter.
“They all told him it wasn’t smart to keep my hair because of DNA and all, but he said he didn’t care, that it was worth the risk.”
“Wow. I can’t fucking wait to kill this sick son of a bitch,” I grumble. “He said he leaves at nine, so that should give us plenty of time to check out his house and then hunker down inside around eight thirty.”
“Okay,” she agrees. Nine o’clock can’t come quick enough.
Tessa
* * *
Floyd’s house is dirty, just like what I remember about him. As soon as Verek mentioned his hairstyle, I immediately remembered it and the face of the man who went with it.
While I told him about the creep pulling out my hair and keeping it, I didn’t tell him that Floyd was the one who took a certain, very painful virginity of mine. It felt like he was ripping me open. They all wanted to hurt me, but that was probably the most agonizing. I couldn’t even scream with the tape over my mouth as the other three men watched. I heard someone mention that Floyd had a deal with them where he always got to have a go there first with their victims. He certainly wasn’t the last either…
“You okay?” Verek asks as I stand paralyzed in the middle of his trashed living room where the carpet is so dirty it looks light brown, but I think it was once cream-colored. And unfortunately, there’s no garage, so we’ll have to make it look like he hung himself. That’s not an image I’m looking forward to seeing.
“Uh-huh, yeah,” I answer.
“This one tougher on you than the others?” he asks, and I’m not sure if he means the memories or the way we’re going to kill him.
“Yes,” I reply which is the answer to both questions.
“I know it’s gross, but if he saved your hair somewhere, we need to find it before the police do.”
“Right,” I agree, since we’re going to set this up as a suicide because he can’t handle the guilt of what he did to women.
“If you would rather look for a laptop or tablet you can,” Verek offers.
“Thanks. I’ll do that,” I agree as I start lifting dirty towels and clothes from the pile on the sofa, trying to only touch corners with my gloved hands while holding a small flashlight in the other.
Half an hour later, and right around nine when he should be closing up the pawn shop, I have an older, slow-as-snails laptop plugged in and booting up, and Verek has a cigar box full of hair.
“Well, at least they’re labeled by date,” he says with a cringe as he stares down at them.
“You should probably pull out all the ones from around this past April for Cari, Robin, and Sandy’s sake.”
“Good thinking,” Verek says as he places the box on the kitchen counter and uses his index finger to sort through the pile. One by one he pulls the hair out and places them on a paper towel. “Got theirs and yours,” he tells me before folding up the towel and pushing it deep into his pocket. “We’ll throw these out or burn them later. The rest of the box we can put next to the laptop to make it easier for the police to track down victims.”
“What if a family member or friend finds him first and covers it up?” I ask in concern.
“Then he’s still dead, and t
hey’ll have to live with the shit he did.”
“Right, yeah. It would hurt us with explaining the other two’s disappearance, but either way, they’ll all be dead.”
“Exactly,” Verek says.
“The laptop is finally on the home screen, no password.”
“I’ll type up the message,” he says when he comes over. As his fingers move over the keys, he reads the words aloud. “I’ve done so many horrible things that I can’t live with myself anymore. I’ve raped women, lots of them, ruining their lives and my own. I, along with Joey Simpson, Donald Franklin, and Leroy Clemons would kidnap women together and hold them against their will. I warned them I was going to confess, and they all decided to run to try and avoid getting caught. I’m sorry, even though words could never make up for what I did. The next best thing is to end my life.” Verek finishes typing and turns the screen to me. “How does that all sound?”
“Good, that’s good. I think you covered everything.”
“All right then,” he says as he straightens. “You want to wait in the bathroom?”
“No,” I say with conviction. “It’s more disgusting than anything else in this place.”
“How about the hallway, then?”
“Okay.”
Pulling out a gun from the back of his jeans, he offers it to me. “If anything goes wrong, if he were to get away from me, kill him, then run. I’ll handle the rest.”
“I understand,” I say. “Please don’t let him get away.”