“What the fuck?” Ralen asked. “Who the fuck are these guys?”
“My girl’s enemies.”
Cash gaped at him. “Did you just say your girl’s enemies?”
“Yes. I did. The pair of you seem shocked. You didn’t think I’d take out the enemies of my girl?”
“We didn’t know you had a girl to start with,” Ralen said. “So no, we didn’t realize that you were running around murdering her fucking enemies.”
“They’re not dead yet. Well, not all of them.” Ortega walked over and kicked one of the men on the floor, who groaned.
“Since when have you had a girlfriend?” Cash asked.
“Oh, about ten days. She doesn’t know she’s my girlfriend yet, though. We’re working that through. She’s being a bit . . . resistant. These guys are like courting gifts.”
A bunch of dead bodies were courting gifts? There were times that Cash thought he couldn’t be shocked. And then something else happened.
“You kidnapped all of these people so that this girl would want to go out with you?” Ralen clarified.
“Yes. And because they’re evil bastards who deserve to die. They’re not good people. Each of them has hurt my girl in some way. There are also women who have hurt her but I’ll have to do something else to them since I don’t murder women.”
Right. Cool. Shit.
“And you want our help getting rid of the bodies?” Cash asked.
“You got it. I thought about the river, but there are too many bodies. It’s risky. I did find a pig farmer nearby, but one body would be okay, two would be pushing it. Then I thought of the petroleum refinery.”
What did the petroleum . . . oh fuck.
“Acid?” Ralen asked, sounding slightly ill.
Ortega nodded. “Acid.”
“We can’t break into a petroleum refinery to get fucking acid,” Cash said. “It probably has tight security.”
“We’re not going into the refinery,” Ortega said. “They’re due a delivery around four and we’re going to lighten their load. That’s why I need your help. I’ve got a few things to put into place.”
Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
The last thingthat Cash thought he’d be doing was stealing fucking acid from a petroleum refinery.
But here he was.
Ortega handled the trickier parts, like paying off security to look the other way as they helped themselves to a vat of fucking acid. That had to be carried back to the warehouse and down to the basement.
That was his and Ralen’s job.
He set down the acid and stepped back, breathing heavily. Not because of the effort it had taken to get the acid down here. More from adrenaline and fear.
He’d felt certain that they were going to get caught.
“What happens when the refinery discovers they’re missing some acid?” Ralen asked.
“Not our problem,” Ortega said. “We do need to work quickly though.”
They’d intercepted the truck carrying the chemicals a few miles away. Then they’d punctured the tires so that the refinery thought it was a robbery, rather than Ortega bribing the two drivers.
