We’ve raced each other for as long as I can remember. When she first learned how to ride a bike, that’s where it started—racing through our development to win the last popsicle or piece of birthday cake. We never did those normal sibling bets like ‘rock, paper, scissors’ or ‘guess thenumber behind my back’. Racing is how we decided who did the chores around the house.
Jessie’s window rolls down as she pulls up next to me in the abandoned parking lot, and smoke plumes from the hotboxed car window. She holds the joint up in offering, and I accept. I take a long drag, French inhaling before passing it back. That should at least hold me through this drop-off of our new member, Noelle.I won’t partake in any discussion; that’s all Jessie’s job. I’m just here as her watchman. I’ll only be needed if Jessie can’t hold her ground.
Twenty minutes pass by, and a blacked-out Cadillac, with blacked-out windows, parks at the far end of the lot. I glance at Jessie, and she shrugs. I silently nod at her as a cue to have her strap ready just in case, and a corner of her lips rises, letting me know she already has it locked and loaded. I try to see through the windshield, but it’s equally as impossible as the passenger and rear windows. One thing I’ve learned from working with these guys is they don’t fuck around.
One of the doors on the back side of the Cadillac is slammed shut, and the car spins out of the parking lot, leaving a plume of burnt rubber and asphalt behind it. When the smoke clears, we see a body lying limp on the road where the Cadillac was. He’s hog tied and appears dead. Seriously, is he even breathing? This better not have been a setup, or they’ll all burn in Hell. My Hell.
I look back at Jessie, and she’s staring wide-eyed at the unmoving body that was just dumped.
“Grab the gloves from the trunk, we don’t need any form of DNA left in case this is a murder scene,” I demand as I walk towards the body. I already wrapped my shoes in plastic bags before stepping out of the car to be extra cautious and had Jess do the same.
“Hey, look at this!” I shout at Jessie. “Is that his wallet? Does it have his ID in it?”
I flip it open to find it empty, except for a tiny, folded piece of paper in the billfold. I unravel it to find a short note.
“Enjoy him.”
“He’s our guy.”
Well, this was the shortest interview known to mankind. The dude is unconscious and zip-tied, bound by his arms and legs behind his back. There’s a tiny pinprick speck of blood on his neck.
He was drugged.
Dried blood cakes his beaten face, and his right eye is swollen shut. I pull the black hood from my back pocket and place it over his head in case he wakes up on the way to the office. He’ll be disoriented and likely in fight or flight mode.
“Grab his feet, I’ll get his head. We need to get him in the trunk before anybody sees us out here.” We’re in the middle of nowhere, at an abandoned train station. The chances of somebody driving by are low, but never zero. I lift him from under his arms. He’s every bit of two hundred pounds. All muscle. He’s taller than me, and I’m six foot nine.
“Drop his legs and open the trunk.” We don’t have time to waste. We need to get the fuck out of here. We already stand out with our cars, we should invest in something more casual for this shit. Neither of our cars has a decent trunk. It’s fucking laughable, honestly. Shoving a giant ass man into this tiny space.
“So…” Jessie stands with her hands on her hips and lips pursed. “What’s your plan? Because this big fucker isn’t fitting in there!” She throws her arm out, towards the trunk.
“Step back, I’ll make it work. We have no other choice. We take him, or we get involved in an investigation. Which do you prefer?” I snap.
“Yeah, because this mockery of a trunk is the best option, definitely not the passenger seat.”
“He is not sitting in the car with us. We have no idea what he’s capable of or what his intentions are.” He’s unconscious, bound at the wrists and ankles, with a bag over his head, but that doesn’t mean he’s defenseless. When he wakes up, he’s not going to be calm and ask about the weather. Who knows what they gave him or how much time he has before he regains consciousness, anyway.
“Seriously, just move! He’s going in here.” Jessie backs away without a word. Rolling him onto his side on the hood, I shove him in at the waist, making him curl in on himself. His neck is going to be hella sore after this, but it’s the only option we have. I push his head over, so his ear rests on his shoulder, and slam the hood closed.
“Now, let’s get the hell out of here,” Jessie saysnervously. “No racing, the last thing we need is to get pulled over and searched. I can’t imagine explaining this,” She says, nodding towards the trunk.
We pull into the dingy bank parking lot and park in the back. There’s a lower entrance that leads straight to our offices, but I barricaded it with dumpsters, blocking it from sight. It’s equipped with the same security as the main entrance. We avoid the secondary entrance as much as possible to keep suspicions from arising. Jessie will be going through the main entry, like a distraction. I wait until the coast is clear before popping the hood and finding Noelle is still unconscious. I check him for a pulse, to be sure he didn’t die from lack of oxygen. It’s weak, but there. I drag him from the trunk and over to the door.
After rolling the loud ass dumpsters out of the way, I scan my hand and prop the door open with a brick. I have twenty seconds to drag his ass through the door and close it before the alarms go off.Plenty of time.
With ten seconds left, I close the door and enter the code for the alarm system. The last thing I need is for this place to be raided by my men, causing a scene.
The elevator dings, and Jessie steps out, nose deep in her phone.
“By all means, stand there on your phone. I don’t need the keys to the cell or anything.” I retort sarcastically.
“I wasn’t just standing here, dipshit! You’re the one who wanted to come with me and do it your way.” She rolls her eyes as ifI’mthe inconvenience here and not the new fucking pet lying unconscious at my feet.
“Please do explainyourplan, Jessie. Because as far as I know, neither of us planned on having a drugged grown man dumped on us like we’re an animal shelter.”
“Enough!” She yells. “Bickering back and forth isn’t solving the issue here. Sit him in the chair, and I’ll restrain him. Then, do me a favor and go take a breather or something.”
She snaps her fingers, “Oh, better yet, call Kelsey!” She says, shooting daggers through my cold, black soul.
