Vanian
As I pull into the parking lot at Club X, I glance at Nantes. We stopped for dinner so we wouldn’t get here too early, and even through that, he’s been acting the same as he always does. He’s oddly calm considering what we came here to do, and I have to wonder how he’s handling it. Never in a million years did I think he would ever know my secret, much less join me, but his reasoning makes sense. I’ve done the mental work I think I need to do to make this matter. One last time; a sacrifice. Then I walk away. With Nantes putting his own life on the line, I have to.
“How ya feeling?”
He turns to me and smiles. “Oddly calm. More anticipatory than anxious.”
“That’s how I felt when this all started.”
“How does it feel now?”
I shrug. “Like a job. A necessary task. That’s probably a clue that I should let it go. It doesn’t even get my blood rushing anymore.”
“That’s the problem with any obsession. Over time, it takes more and more of it to get the same hit. You have to constantly raise the stakes or it loses its effect.”
“Spoken like a true doctor.” I reach across the seat and squeeze his hand. “This is weird, but I’m glad you’re with me.”
“Is it weird? I feel like it’s just us. We connect on a level most other people never can.”
Smiling, I nod. “You’re right.” I glance at the club. “We have our story straight, right? We’re going to meet him, get a vibe, and encourage him to come with us to meet our main contact. We’ll offer to drive, but if he’s cautious and wants to drive himself, that’s fine.”
“We’ll tell him it’s a party,” Nantes says, “and he can only get in with us.”
“Correct. We’ll take him over to the abandoned warehouse we saw off the freeway coming in. We walk him in, and when he sees it’s empty, he’ll probably react.”
“That’s when you’ll use the stun gun.”
“Right. That’ll slow him down, and then we can do the rest.”
Nantes nods. “Got it. I’m ready.”
I squeeze his hand. “Let’s do this.”
We exit the car and walk confidently to the front door. There’s no cover, so we enter easily, scanning the area for the man we came to see. I thought I might feel slightly uneasy having Nantes with me, but it’s just the opposite. My confidence soars with him beside me.
He taps my arm and motions with his head towards the bar. I spot Alex Fetterman easily, sitting alone and looking at his phone, his leg bouncing nervously. He looks older in real life, and very average. He wouldn’t stand out in any crowd, and that’s how people like him get away with it. They don’t attract suspicion, seem like decent people, and work in professions that breed trust. Like the clergy. Why anyone still trusts churchpeople with their kids is beyond me. It’s a playground for groomers and abusers.
We approach Fetterman, and as he recognizes our presence, he looks up from his phone, turning slightly to face us. His expression is neutral, but there’s a desperate hunger in his gaze I’ve seen a million times before. The temptation to just pull out my gun and blow his head off is strong, but not here.
“Birddog?” I ask as I reach him. We’re all going by code names. That’s the norm in these circles.
“Yeah,” Alex grunts.
“BearsFan and Bugs here.”
We shake hands even though it disgusts me to touch this creep.
“Ready to go?”
Fetterman nods, throwing down some money on the bar top. Before I can get too far though, he grabs my arm. “You sure this is safe? Private?”
“A hundred percent. I’ve been going for years and I’m never disappointed with the selection.” I lean in close. “Word on the street is they just got three new kids, all preteens.”
His eyes light up and my stomach twists. Absolutely disgusting.
“You said they get a lot of blond girls?” he asks, his voice brimming with excitement.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
