We’re almost at the house we’re targeting, and I don’t know how we’re gonna pull it off with those two club girls right there.
We enter the house via the back, which is where the man always enters too. The door is open, either due to a strong gust of wind or the guy’s carelessness. I’m not complaining, it’s a downright stroke of luck. We walk in and stop in an alcove formed by the wooden stairs that lead to the top of the house. The guy upstairs is snoring so loud it sounds like a chain saw going off. That should be enough to mask our coming, and if the women can sleep through this racket, there’s little chance they’ll wake up once we get there to do our thing.
I gesture to Blaze that we should just tie up the women, knock the guy out and carry him out. None of the other brothers would understand what I’m trying to convey, but Blaze gets it perfectly. It’s good we know each other so well.
I’m just about to make my way up the stairs when giggling female voices and the creak of old wooden floorboards stops me dead in my tracks. I make way too much noise getting back into the darkness of our hiding spot right before the first bare woman’s foot lands on the stairs. They’re trying to be quiet and stealthy, but they’re wobbly and giggly and make so much noise getting down the stairs I’m sure they’ll wake the guy upstairs any second now. Then with my luck, he’ll want another round, and me and Blaze will have front row seats to his groans and their screeches for God knows how long. But the chain saw sounds of his snoring follow the two giggling women down the stairs.
“I’ve never met a guy who snores that loud,” one of them whispers as they’re putting their shoes on at the foot of the stairs.
“I have,” the other one says. “Come on, let’s get out of here before he wakes up. I have no need to see his tiny cock again tonight.”
They both giggle again and make so much noise finding the door in the dark than it drowns out even the snoring.
But once they’re gone, the chainsaw is still whirring loudly.
I couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. My luck must be turning.
We wait for a good half an hour before going upstairs.
The guy is lying in the middle of the queen-sized bed, buck naked and so bulky he takes up most of the space. Me and Blaze look at each other and no gesturing is necessary to convey that knocking him out first and then dressing him is out of the question. He’ll have to do all that himself. And maybe walk out by himself too, since he’s gotta weigh at least three hundred pounds.
I try not to look at his cock to see if it really is as tiny as the club girl claimed as Blaze and I take our positions to either side of him.
I press my knife to his throat and nod to Blaze that I’m ready for him to wake him up before I clamp my free hand around his mouth and nose.
Blaze has to shake him three times before the guy’s eyes finally open. I can see the exact moment when he realizes he’s not dreaming.
Blaze tosses a pair of jeans onto his bulging stomach.
“Put those on and don’t make a sound, or I’ll stick this knife straight through your neck,” I tell him.
He just looks at me, surprise turning to rage in his eyes. I have to prick him with the tip of the knife to get him to do as we told him.
Blaze uses the time while the man is sitting up, and trying to avoid my knife as he clumsily pulls on his jeans, to gag him with a bandana. As soon as the guy is standing and his jeans are up, he finishes the job by tying his hands behind him with a zip tie.
“Now you’re gonna walk out of here with us nice and easy,” I say. “And above all, very quietly. You try to run and I kill you, it’s that simple. My boss wants you alive, but he’ll settle for dead. But if you play along, then you’ll be set free. We just want some information is all.”
I kinda see the exact moment when the man gets over his rage and starts listening. Given the choice between life and death, it’s a rare man that will choose death.
“And don’t think you can outrun us either,” I say and I nudge him to start walking out of the room. “Like I said, you play nice and you’ll be fucking in here again tomorrow night. Try to run and you’ll die alone in the dust.”
Over the top maybe, but at least my talking got him walking and we’re in the windy street now.
The closest exit from the town is across the field separating this house from the hill on which the big house stands and then to the left into the shrubbery and rocks and darkness of the foot of yet another hill. I’m pretty sure the guy has no stamina whatsoever and am proven right when he starts panting past his gag before we’re even across the field. He’s louder than the whistling wind.
I signal Blaze that we should pick him up and we do, then proceed to carry him across the field and up the hill. We’re the ones panting by the time we finally crest the hill and lay him down behind a good-sized pile of rocks, well out of sight of the still dark and silent town behind us.
It’s done. And it went without a hitch. My luck most certainly has turned, and I credit Brenda and only Brenda for that. She makes me feel like I can do anything. Not just feel like, I can do anything as long as she’s the prize waiting for me to get back to her.
The sun is already rising by the time we pull up to the side of the bunker with our charges. The coolness of night is evaporating, giving way to what will be another scorching day. But the thought barely crosses my mind and certainly doesn’t annoy me. In an hour, two at most, I’ll be in Brenda’s bed. We’ll have at least a couple of days together now that the job is almost done, maybe more.
Mac winces as he climbs down from the truck back of our truck. He’s cradling his left arm with his right across his stomach, looking as pale grey as the concrete walls of the bunker. His and Eagle’s target put up the fiercest fight and at one point managed to get Mac’s knife away from him and drive it into his forearm before Eagle subdued him. Rook bandaged it up as best he could, but that thing’s gonna need stitches and he already lost a lot of blood.
“Go see Doc right now,” Rook tells him, and Mac doesn’t need telling twice. He’s leaning heavily on Eagle as the young man leads him away. He doesn’t look as cocky and pissed off as he’s been the last couple of days, the concern on his face making him look very young.
The van with the prisoners, driven by Cross, pulls up, kicking up a cloud of dust that doubles as the other truck comes to a stop beside it.
Several brothers, including Ink and Joe, are already coming towards us, ready to unload the prisoners.
“Put them in the cells,” Cross tells them. “And someone go wake Scar, I want to speak to him right away.”
I clear my throat as he passes me on the way into the bunker. His skin is ashen in the early morning light, but his eyes are alert and piercing as ever. “I…ummm…can I…,” I stammer, feeling like a shy teenager.
“Everyone stays here for now,” Cross says, his black gaze barely glancing off me, but making me stand at attention despite it.
I nod, but he doesn’t see it, because he’s already striding off towards the bunker.
Tank slaps me on the back, chuckling. “If she’s waited this long, what’s another couple of days, am I right?”