My eyes shoot open, thinking I’m late, forcing Weeks to jump back from my body quickly rising in the bed.
With a tap on my phone screen, it comes to life, and I see it’s almost nine p.m. I want to message Rowan, but stop myself. That’s for later.
“Foods on the table, along with a few shots of espresso.” Weeks motions to the small table that has seen better days and probably more drugs than I could imagine.
Sitting on the side of the bed, hanging my head, I feel the bed dip next to me.
“What’s going on through that head of yours?” Weeks’ voice is laced with worry.
I lift my head and I let my words spew. “This is huge and I don’t want to fuck up. Everything and everyone is riding on my last job. It’s a fucking lot…” I pause, sitting up straighter. “And something feels off.” I can’t wrap my mind around what, but something is off. Which puts me on even higher alert.
Weeks slaps my back. “Brother, yeah, it’s your last one, but this,” he gestures to Thomas and then to me, "isn’t the last of it. You’ll be behind the scenes, but you need to go out with guns blazing. This is everything you’ve worked for years. A cumulation of it all. You should have known your last one would be the one to scare the fuck out of you, questioning it all. If it wasn’t, I’d think something was wrong with you. You have us, we have your back, and no matter what, we’re all leaving in one piece. We have our girls waiting for us at home.” Weeks looks to Thomas. “Even this fucker, which is shocking.”
“Hey!” Thomas calls from across the room. And I can’t help but laugh.
“I just don’t want this to fuck up.”
Weeks shakes his head. “You won’t.”
God, I hope he is right. I stand up, walk the few steps to the table, and force down the food waiting for me. A vending machine sandwich that will probably have me shitting my pants while I have a gun to that assholes head.
I don’t even taste the espresso; I just swallow, hoping it’ll perk me up.
Dropping my towel in the middle of the room, dick swinging, I step into my jeans, focusing on getting myself dressed.
We double check the guns and ammo as my beanie swings limply from my hand. I watch Thomas and Weeks pack up the explosives. Our just in case scenario at the ready.
Guns secured under my hoodie, extra ammo tucked throughout my body, I give a nod and we head out of the motel room; the door slamming behind us.
Down with the Sicknessby Disturbed blares from the car's stereo, as we all are in our own thoughts, moving along the highway doing well over the speed limit. I sit rocking back and forth to the song. Tapping my phone, I see Rowan’s smiling face on my screen, perfect and sitting on the ledge of the porch at our old house.I’m coming home to you; I tell the phone screen before I power it off, placing it in the cup holder.
As the next song ends, Thomas’ voice calls back to me, “You ready, Brother? We’re two minutes out.”
“Yep.” My adrenaline spikes with his announcement, fueling my body, my mind turning into nothing but the job I have in front of me. Turning off from all things other than the man I’m coming for.
The car slows down, and I see Weeks' eyes look at me from the rearview mirror as Thomas hands me my earpiece. “We can get in within minutes if you need us,” he promises me. “A click of the button.” He holds out his fist and we fist bump.
“I’ll see you two on the other side,” I call over my shoulder, opening the door and stepping out into the night. Pulling my beanie lower. I’ve learned the house layout like the back of my hand; it’s a huge motherfucker.
Aiden thinks he’s protected, but when his protectors turn their backs on the man that pays them, that’s when you know you truly fucked up.
All the houses sit on over an acre of land, spread apart, so I have no worries about someone seeing me or the guys.
The smell of fresh rain and mowed grass permeates the air. Each step I take, my boots sink into the muddy grass as if it’s wanting to capture me to keep the man inside safe, while my hand rests on the gun under my hoodie. Ready and waiting.
I stay out of the light and in the shadows, hunched down and taking each step with caution, while my eyes dart every way, waiting to spot anything out of the ordinary.
Finally reaching the house, I run across the grass to the side of the house, becoming one with the wall, inching forward to the back patio.
I don’t have a way in, so I have to make my own way. Hoping someone was stupid enough to leave a door unlocked but having my lock picks on hand, just in case.
Stepping around the wall, I’m met with the back porch, littered with beer bottles. I smile, hoping his stupid ass is knocked out somewhere. My feet hit the concrete, and I step on something slippery. Looking down, a used condom peeks out from under my boots. My lip curls up in disgust.
With my lock pick inserted, I see someone walking. Quickly, I put my back to the brick, hoping they didn’t see me, but I hear lock disengaging and the doorknob turns, raising my gun, a blonde head pops out. Her face is one of pure surprise, not expecting anyone to be out here. When she spots the gun raised to her head, she screams, and its ear piercing, rearing back, I hit her with the butt of my gun, knocking her out, needing her to shut up. Her body falls limply to the ground, half in the house and half outside.
Making quick work, I pocket my tools before I step over her and into the house, pulling her inside by her arm before I quietly close the door.
She’s only in a bathing suit and a coverup. Unfastening the coverup, I turn her over and tie her hands together, then connect it to her ankles, knotting the fabric to where I know she can’t get out of it. She starts to moan, moving her head from side to side as I drag her to the nearest door, opening it. It’s a coat closet. Pushing coats aside, I spot what I’m looking for when I pull a leather coat belt from around the waist. Making fast work, I wrap it around her mouth, tying it and her blonde hair within it. She grumbles. “Sorry,” I apologize to her, not liking that I had to hurt her, but it’s me or her, and I’ll choose me every time. Letting go of her, she rolls onto her side, and I close the closet door, locking her in, unbeknownst to her, keeping her safe from the hell that’s about to be unleashed.
