“You may be right.” He centered his gun over the other guy Monk and Mace had brought in. “Leg or arm?” he asked politely.
The guy tried to scramble away but ran into Jet.
Jet looked at the asshole. “These guys are fucking morons. How in the hell did they manage to get the drop on Memphis and Billie Jean?”
Barracuda shot him in the leg with no warning. “Anyone want to talk now?”
“Stop!” Mac shouted.
Barracuda glanced at me over his shoulder. “My money was on this guy. He doesn’t seem like the type who can take a shot.”
Jet lifted him up and moved him toward Barracuda. “Speak, fucker.”
The guy licked his dry lips.
“You fucking talk and you’re dead,” Jester growled.
Barracuda pointed his gun at Jester’s head. “As if you’re in the position to threaten killing someone.”
“Spoiler,” Jet laughed. “You’re all gonna die.”
“Not so fast,” Barracuda said. “I did say if one of them talked, they may walk out of here with no extra holes in them.” He nodded to Mac. “Start talking.”
“The girls. They were running some of the drugs for us. The blonde was the one who started. She needed money and was willing to do anything.” The guy licked his lips again. “The one with the ever changing hair color is the one who stirred shit up.”
“Shut your mouth!” Jester spat.
I pointed my gun at Jester. “You tell him to shut up one more time and I’m gonna put a bullet between your eyes.”
“We needed one more girl to help and the blonde suggested her friend,” Mac continued. “Things were going good until we started noticing some of the drugs came up missing. Not a lot, but enough for us to know something wasn’t right.”
“The girls you were using were stealing from you?” Monk asked.
“We didn’t know what was happening. We didn’t figure it out until last week.”
Jet smacked him upside the head. “Well tell us what the fuck happened, dumbass.”
“She’s a snitch. An informant for the cops.”
Whoa.
“The girls?” Barracuda asked.
“Just the one. The blonde had no idea what Billie Jean was doing.”
Raelyn had been right. There was no way she was doing drugs. She was snitching to the cops about Jester.
“So why take both girls?” I asked.
“Because at the time, we didn’t know which one of them was ratting to the cops. All we noticed was the white car parked in different spots but there every day. They were surveilling us and using the information Billie Jean had given them.”
“She was skimming off the drugs to give to the cops as evidence,” Monk snickered. “Fucking smart.”
“She’s a fucking rat,” Jester spat. “Nothing smart about that. I should have killed that bitch right away when we grabbed her. The couple grand I was going to get for her and Memphis is the only reason they’re still alive.”
“But, ya didn’t.” Mace drawled.
Tank and Mace walked in with Billie Jean and Memphis. Their clothes were ripped and dirty, and they both looked like they had gone ten rounds in the ring.
“Had to break down the door to the basement. They were right on the other side of it,” Tank informed us.
They were alive, but they looked rough. Memphis’ left eye was swollen shut, and she wasn’t wearing pants. She had bruises all over her face and a large gash on her arm.
Billie Jean’s hair was matted down with dried blood, and her lip was swollen and bleeding. She had all of her clothes on, but they were ripped and filthy.
Menace had told us they were raping Memphis.
Anger boiled deep inside me. Who the fuck did Jester think he was to do this? Where the fuck did he get off?
I pointed the gun at Jester’s head and slowly moved around the couch.
“Playboy,” Barracuda called.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
I pressed the end of the gun against Jester’s forehead. “You think you’re a big man? Raping women and beating them? That makes you feel strong?”
“She…she’s a snitch, and we only touched the blonde. Fucking Billie Jean doesn’t do anything for me,” Jester stuttered. A rapist with disconerning taste.
As if that made what he had done right. “You’re a fucking coward. Use women to haul your drugs around while you sit here in your fucking roach infested filth getting high every day.” There was a special place in hell for guys like Jester.
I never would tell you I was one of the good guys, but I had some morals. Raping and beating women was lower than dirt.
“Take the girls out to the van,” Barracuda ordered Mace and Tank.
Mace wrapped his arm around Memphis’ shoulder, and she whimpered when he urged her to walk. He lifted her into his arms, careful not to jostle her, and carried her out the door.
Tank put his arm around Billie Jean and tried to follow Mace.
“Wait,” Billie Jean said.
She hobbled over to Jester and looked down at him.
“What do you have to say, snitch?” he spat. Even with a gun to his head, Jester was a fucking moron.
I ground the barrel into his skin, and my finger itched to pull the trigger.
“Burn in hell, you piece of shit.” Billie Jean growled and spit on him. “You deserve everything they’re gonna do to you.” Billie Jean had the same spunk as Raelyn.
Tank led her out of the house, and the door slammed shut behind them.
“Not how you saw this ending, did you, Jester?” Barracuda moved next to me and looked down at Jester. “You’ve always thought you were untouchable.”
“Not anymore,” Jet called.
“I’m just like you guys. You think you’re better than me, but you’re the fucking same,” Jester growled. Even in the eye of death, he was a mouthy fucker.
The two Barracuda had shot whimpered on the floor in pain and pleaded for their lives.
Jet crouched down and pushed the tip of his gun into the wound in the one’s arm. “That hurt?” he asked.
The guy moaned and tried to move from Jet.
Jet pinned him to the floor with his knee. “Can I kill this one first?” he asked.
“They’re all going to die,” Barracuda replied. “Don’t give a fuck in what order.”
“You said I would live!” Mac yelled.
Barracuda pinned him with a glare. “No. I said you might live.”
“You can’t do this!” Mac wailed.
Barracuda walked over to him and kicked him in the gut. He pointed his gun at him and planted a foot in his chest to pin him to the floor. “No one tells me what to do.” He pulled the trigger and shot Mac right between the eyes. Blood spattered all over the floor, and Mac’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.
Jet followed Barracuda’s lead and pressed the gun to the one with the arm wound. “Night night, fucker.” He pulled the trigger and watched the life drain from the guy.
The one with the leg wound tried to run away but collapsed onto the floor in a heap. Jet spun, fired twice, and killed him.
“What the hell, man?” Monk grumbled. “I didn’t get to shoot one.”