My gaze flickered around. “Troop, knock the man out and get him in bed. Dutch, clean up around here a bit. We’ve got a few broken things and a picture off the wall.”
“On it,” he murmured.
“Come here, old man,” Trooper said with a grunt as he wrenched the man off the ground.
And as he dragged that hoarse-voiced man down the hallway, Dutch started his furious cleaning while I pulled out my burner phone and called church with the rest of the guys.
They were not gonna like the fact that I was pulling them away from Hell Week, either.
* * *
“Help! Somebody, please help me!”
Naomi’s screams followed us all the way back to the clubhouse, perched on a cliffside surrounded by sharp edges on all sides except the front porch. Motorcycles revved in the distance, signaling the onslaught of angry men that wanted their paychecks.
But god damn it, her screaming had to stop.
“Somebody! Please! Help--!”
I cocked my hand back and lunged at her, watching as she flinched. But, it shut her up. “One more sound out of you, and I’ll send Dutch back for Daddy Dearest. Got it?”
Tears streaked her cheeks, but she nodded quickly.
“Good,” I glowered, “Troop?”
“Yeah?”
“Get her in the basement and lock the door.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Please. No. I’ll be good. I’ll be good! Put me down! Please, put me down!”
I smirked. “You heard the girl, Troop. Put her down.”
“Allow me,” Dutch said as he slipped past me and opened the basement door.
“Down you go,” Trooper said with a grunt.
The tumbling of her body satisfied me as Dutch slammed the door closed. He flipped the lock, then mockingly wiped his hands off in the air as if he had accomplished something. We had accomplished nothing, though. Not until we had our money.
Not until our client paid for the bullshit they had put us through.
“Come,” I said as I headed upstairs, “the guys will be here any second.”
“Heeeeelp!” Naomi shrieked from the basement as she pounded on something. “Somebody! Can anybody hear meeeeee!?”
Dutch growled as he flipped the lock and ripped the door open. “It won’t take us but a motherfucking second to toss your dead body into the ocean before going and getting your father again. So, can it!”
And when silence fell across the house, I drew in a deep breath.
“Dinner’s at eight, Naomi! If you aren’t awake, you don’t eat!”
Then, I nodded my head at Dutch, signaling for him to close the door.
Which he did.
“I think she’s crying,” Trooper said as Dutch locked the door back.
“Good,” I said as I turned and headed upstairs, “her father ruined our biggest transaction of the year. She can drown herself in her tears, for all I care. Come on. It’s church time.”
