Phoenix took several threatening steps closer to Byte. “The fuck you talking about?”
Byte grinned from ear to ear. “Well, see, after your speech about checking things twice and yada yada, I got to thinking about how to prevent further mishaps in situations similar to our current predicament.”
Phoenix growled, “Cut the shit and spit it out.”
Byte sighed, deflated, “After Octavius was doped up and moved to the back bedroom, me and Patch put a tracker in him. His own tracker, ironically. I was able to reprogram it and secure the feed so that only I can see it, or those who have clearance.” He shrugged. “So, relax, I’ve known the fucker’s location the whole time.”
Phoenix’s face reddened to a very unhealthy shade, but it was Badger’s fist that collided with Byte’s face.
“Ow! What the fuck, Veep?” Byte shouted.
“You’re fucking smart. I’ll give you that, but you’re a cocky, sarcastic little shithead. You should have told us you did that! And you should have told Phoenix the minute, no the fucking second, you knew he was on the move!” Badger slapped Byte in the back of the head. “What in hell is wrong with you?” Byte reached up to rub the back of his head with the hand that wasn’t cradling his cheek. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Just go get him. Now!” Badger bellowed.
Byte scurried out the door, Patch not far behind him. It didn’t even take 10 minutes for them to drag Octavius through the front doors. They unceremoniously tossed him on the floor at Phoenix’s feet. Byte kept his eyes on the floor and muttered, “Sorry, Prez. Won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t. It was good work, good thinking, all except not telling me or Badger about it.”
“Got it.”
Phoenix looked down to the lump on the floor. Octavius lay curled on his side, handcuffs still attached to his bloody wrists and ankles. There was blood coming from somewhere on his torso, but it wasn’t obvious as to where exactly or what caused it.
“Where’d you find him?” Badger asked.
“About 50 yards from the shed by the lake. He wasn’t going to make it much farther with his ankles in the state they’re in, not to mention the metal rod that was sticking out of his back,” Byte explained.
“How’d that happen?” Phoenix asked.
Byte shrugged, “I’m guessing he was rocking back and forth, doing whatever he could to get that laundry bin to fall apart. When it did, he must have fallen on one of the rods that framed the bin. We found him crawling on hands and knees with a two foot rod sticking out of his back. Patch yanked it out and we carried him back here.”
Phoenix looked to Patch, “You need to do anything else to him?”
Confusion washed over Patch’s face, “You want me to fix him? Isn’t that counterproductive?”
Phoenix laughed, an evil, cold laugh, “Not at all. I plan to keep him alive for the time being. I have a feeling he’s going to become your number one patient.”
Octavius grunted and tried to raise his head, “You can’t do this to me! You’re not going to get away with this.”
Phoenix gave him a hard kick to his ribs. “That’s where you’re wrong,little brother, I can do this and I’ve already gotten away with it. Everyone thinks you’re dead. Your boys saw your body hanging by a sheet from the ceiling of your cell this morning, saw the police come and take statements, saw the funeral home wheel your body away.” Phoenix leaned down closer to Octavius’s face, “I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you a choice. You tell me what happened to Annabelle and I’ll show you some mercy. You don’t, I’ll keep you alive and torture you for years to come. I’ll make sure every one of your executive council has the ‘full prison experience’, especially your son.” Phoenix kicked him again and hobbled away, clutching his ribs. “Get him out of my sight.”
Patch and Byte carted Octavius to the basement, Badger followed Phoenix to his office, and I went to see my girl. Nothing sounded better than crawling in bed beside her and sinking into her warm, wet body.
EPILOGUE
Ember
One month had passed since Octavius was found dead. Federal agents raided the farm the very next day. What they uncovered was unheard of in a little town like Croftridge. Octavius was forcing people to illegally ship drugs and guns for him. He even took their children from them to keep them compliant and working. That’s how the “orphanage” came to be. All of the kids knew what it was and why they were there, all of them except for me.
After the raid, the people forced to work for Octavius were allowed to leave the property and their children were returned to them. Since those people ended up being forced into the drug and gun trade because they had been illegally gambling, they couldn’t get off without some form of punishment. It was eventually decided that each person, children excluded, would be put on probation for two years.
Several families were in a very bad situation. They were suddenly homeless, jobless, and carless with a new criminal record and children to provide for. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to help them, especially the kids. They were innocent in all of this, just like I was. If I could prevent even one kid from having a crappy childhood, I was going to do it.
As luck would have it, Phoenix, being Zayne’s firstborn son, became the rightful owner of the dairy farm. Well, owner isn’t the right word, more like a CEO. He could do anything and everything with the farm, except for sell it, destroy it, or intentionally ruin the business. The man who started the dairy farm (it actually was just a farm in the beginning), some ancestor of mine, had a legal document drawn up giving control of the farm to the firstborn son of each generation when their respective father died or retired. If said son did not want to run the farm (which had yet to happen), they were to hire a third party to manage the farm until the next male heir came of age. The document was quite impressive. It outlined who the farm was passed on to in every circumstance imaginable from no heirs to only female offspring. The man really covered all of his bases.
Once all of the contraband was removed from the property, the criminals were arrested, and the families were set free, there was a lot of available room on the property. It seemed wasteful to let so many buildings sit empty, particularly when Croftridge had a sudden influx of homeless families. The ideas started flooding my mind, faster than I could write them down. Once I finally had my thoughts organized, I set off to find my dad.
I knocked excitedly on his office door. “Come in!”
“Hey, Dad. Do you have a minute?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement. I think I actually bounced the whole way to his office door.
