I’m only carrying my studded brass knuckles and a backup gun strapped to my ankle. I do better thinking on the fly and finding weapons as they lay. When it comes to hunting my prey, my improvisation hasn’t failed me yet- just ask Jimmy, Chuck, Robert, and Dante’s henchmen… oh wait you can’t because they are D-E-A-D. This causes a little laugh to bubble from my lips. I’m sure I probably sound like a crazy person at this moment, but I just think of it as getting in the mental frame I need to take care of business.
Taking a seat in the limo between Fletch and Clint, I remain in the zone, planning out all the things I want to do to Richard. I’m tired of fucking around with this dickwad; it’s time to execute my vision and think boldly. My anger is only exasperated by Clint leaning into me and grabbing my knee. The look on his face tells me whatever he is about to say is fixin’ to piss me off.
“Baby Blue…. How attached are you to your hatchback?” Clint winces when I swing my full attention to him.
“Mom just texted me and sent pictures…. She was over at the house to feed Donut, and well, look for yourself.” Clint hands me his cell as Fletch leans over for a closer look too. My car is nothing but a smoldering pile of burnt ash and a melted bent frame. That asswipe had his goons torch my ride. I am seething, grinding my teeth together, trying to control my temper, so I don’t unleash it on an unsuspected victim. That was my car. My security blanket. The first thing I ever bought on my own, my escape vehicle from Robert, and the car that Old Man used to play his old-timey country music and sing along in while I took him to his doctor’s appointments...
“Blue, fuck. If you or Holder don’t get to Richard first, I’ll hunt his sorry ass down and fuck up his world just for this one act alone. I hope he enjoys having his guts pulled out his body before I make him eat his own shriveled dick."
I find myself clenching my thighs together with a warm pool of heat rushing to my core. It probably shouldn’t turn me on hearing Clint threaten Richard, but it does. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I say as I straddle his lap, and then suck on his tongue. Forcing his open mouth, he groans into me as his hands grip my ass harder as he tries to make me rock and bounce up and down in his lap like I’m about to ride his thick cock.
“Excuse me...” I turn my head and see the silent and imposing-looking Jiro scowling at me with his buff arms crossed in irritation of my antics. I think this is the first time any of us has heard him speak. “I don’t think such behavior is appropriate in front of Miss Takahashi Nakamura. She is a lady.” This sentiment causing Fletcher to struggle to contain his laugh of sarcasm. I cut him a look; we don’t need to ostracize our allies over a make-out session that apparently is too hot for the yakuzas. So I slide back off Clint’s lap into my seat, but not before I give his tented cock a quick caress with the back of hand, causing Fletcher to howl in delight of my mini rebellion of Jiro’s wishes. Hell, I never claimed to be well adjusted.
__________
The limo pulls up to a trendy new-age looking high rise hotel complete with a neon pink sign displaying the hotel name. Cole did good booking this place for me. The beach is across the street, and surely our hotel rooms will have epic views. Unfortunately, now isn’t the time to focus on it. We leave our bags with the bellhop as Ahmya, and her two guys check us in while the rest of us get ready to split off.
One of Cole’s soldiers’ swings by and picks him up almost instantly as we pull up. With a quick swat on my ass, he’s jumping in with him and heading to the ports.
As the rest of us loiter outside of the hotel, probably looking like we are about to rob the place, I know I need to make this quick. I turn my body towards Dante, hands on my hips, and I mean business. Holder steps up to my back physically and emotionally, letting me know he’s got me. “Spill it, Dante. You are either here with us or against us…. This is about loyalties and survival of the fittest. It’s time to choose your side. Where is your father’s warehouse?”
All eyes turn to Dante in anticipation, his jaw is tight, and his five o’clock shadow making him look weary as fuck, but now isn’t the time for showers and naps for any of us. If he wants his girl back, he better be ready to back his shit up with us. His Adam’s apple bobs a moment before he gives me a curt nod, “It’s in the old warehouse district, past Second Avenue, a real shithole location, but my father takes pride in its notorious locale. It’s not a place anyone would want to go in the dark, but other gangbangers. It’s sketchy and trashy at the best of times. I suggest we go there now, since it’s daytime. The longer we wait, the more likely my father, or Ricardo, will move them under the cover of darkness. With the flesh market around here, and all the online skin peep shows are 24-hour businesses being run, we need Winnie out of there like yesterday. I agree that splitting into two teams, as you suggested before, is the correct tactical call. One group looking for the container, the other looking for Winnie.”
“I agree with the… oh how was it Ahmya so delicately put it ... the fuckboy.” Holder says through clenched teeth, narrowing his eyes at Dante, not giving an inch to his sister’s boyfriend. “If my father knows we are coming…”
“And given the state of your hatchback, I’d hazard to guess he does.” Clint throws in.
“… then my dad will try to hide Winnie with him like a coward. Probably like a human shield if it comes down to it.” This makes Bastien, Augustine, and Dante all seethe, bristle, and growl. “Knowing him, he probably is confident enough with Dante’s crew to cover the container while he waits for Blue… thinking he will surprise her, but we know better, we will anticipate this, and I will be there as Blue’s backup. My father is a treacherous cunt who doesn’t play by any rules, but his own. Always expect the worst from him.”
“If we separate, and being that Cole and his men will be coming to the fight late in the game, how will we indicate which warehouse is your father’s? My experience is there are a lot of effing warehouses in a warehouse district. You got a building number or something to GPS this shit?” I ask Dante point-blank.
He grunts, “No, but it will be easy enough to find.” He points to the side of his neck that is bandaged up. “There a giant fucking crisscrossed dueling pistols spray-painted on the side of the goddamn building. You can’t miss it. It’s like a giant warning sign that angels fear to tread there.”
“So, the original plan stays as is.” I confirm. “Dante will take a quick peek inside and try to get us a head count and orientate us to the layout as best he can, and then he needs to get the fuck out before anyone notices his tattoo is gone.”
“Yeah, dude, it’s best to keep that you switched from #Team Sinners to #Team Saints a secret as long as possible.” Clint smacking Fletcher in the back of the head for his douche comment has me choking back my laughter.
Holder cuts his eyes briefly to Fletch before readdressing the group of us. “Winnie is Dad’s leverage over me and Dante. She’s his commodity, a plaything, a bargaining chip, a quick buck, a way to start a war… a means to his end. He will say things, do reprehensible things to try to goad us all. Don’t fall for it. Expect it, adjust accordingly. Settle any panic that may rise in you, and squash that shit far down. Keep your head in the game, and we will survive this battle and rescue the women, children, and my baby sister.”