Page 55 of Bristol

He shoves the young kid into the living room, his hands already bound behind his back. Slider motions for him to join the others. He can’t be any older than twenty, if that. My stomach turns. These men, and I use that term loosely in reference to whatever the fuck these people are, make me absolutely fucking sick. And angry. So fucking angry.

Mo motions for us to meet him in the kitchen. I give Slider a look and he only nods. He’s got this handled. Reaper and I duck out to talk to Mo.

“What are we going to do about this?” I ask.

“We take these bastards to sit with Clyde and then have it called in. We’ll let the girl in the basement call. She knows nothing about us, and only that we saved her.”

Mo’s answer is simple.

“Perfect. Let me go get the two kids from the Escalade.”

“Two kids?” Mo asks, raising his brows.

“Yeah. The bastard outside had two small boys in the van that he was probably dropping off. I sent them to go hide in the Escalade.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Mo pinches the bridge of his nose. His eyes glass over with rage and he storms out of the room, straight to the living room. He grips the young boy by the shirt and lifts him up, screaming unintelligible threats as he pummels his free hand into the kid’s ribs.

I cringe internally with every blow because the sound of cracking echoes each time he makes a connection.

“You lying little motherfucker!” Mo shouts, throwing him down on the ground. The kid is coughing and wheezing, knees curled to his chest. His face is so red it’s almost purple and I’m not entirely sure he isn’t going to die right here. Fuck him if he does.

“I’m going to load these bastards up. Go get those kids and bring them in here. Away from the prying eyes of these bottom feeders.”

Bottom feeders is a good term. Scum of the fucking earth sounds a little better, but my brother is never wrong in public.

I make it to the Escalade and find the boys holed up exactly where I told them to go. They’re devouring a bag of potato chips and they’ve drank every last drop of water from the gallon that we bought earlier and had sitting on the floorboard. These poor fucking kids.

They both look wild, like stray kittens that have been spotted and are debating on whether to run or cry out. One of them opens the hatch and immediately begins apologizing.

“Shh. It’s okay, buddy. There’s plenty more where that came from. Come on. We’re going to bring you to meet a nice young lady that’s going to help you. Is that okay?”

They look unsure but one of them nods and climbs out of the Escalade, holding the bag of chips tight to his chest. I walk behind them as they slowly make their way to the house. The look in their eyes makes my blood run cold. I have never seen so much fear in a child’s face in my life. They are absolutely fucking terrified that this is a setup. A joke. Looking at them, they’re just waiting for the shoe to drop. To find out that we are just like those men that were about to trade them.

This is one instance, I’m proud to be a disappointment because they will never have to worry about something like this happening to them ever again. I direct the boys around the back of the house. Those sick fucks in the living room don’t deserve to even look in these kids’ direction. Reaper greets us at the back door and leads us down the stairs to the basement where a teenage girl is sitting patiently. Mo is sitting a few feet away from her on a folding metal chair, his hands resting on his thighs. The look on his face is distant and gives away no insight to what he may be thinking.

The two boys eye him suspiciously, the taller of the two placing himself instinctively between the smaller boy and Mo. A protective move only a brother would feel compelled to do. Now that I have the thought, I can see the resemblance between them.

“What are your names?” I ask, kneeling in front of the protective brother.

“I’m Johnny and this is my brother Cash.”

I smile at their names. “Your parents have good taste in music,” I chuckle.

“Listen, you’re going to sit with this nice young lady until the cops get here, okay guys?”

Johnny nods and sits down next to the young girl, who is dirty and in stained and torn clothing. There are drops of dried blood on her jeans and my stomach churns. I cannot wait to watch the life leave the eyes of these soulless bottom feeders.

Mo motions for me to follow him and I do. I don’t want to think about the fucking horrors these kids have been through and not looking at them helps to push that thought to the back of my mind for now.

The living room is vacant of the men that were doing their dealings here. Slider is standing in the doorway of the front door with his forearm propped up on the door frame.

I approach him and extend a hand. “Appreciate you.”

He shakes my hand, pulling me in for a half-ass hug and pat on the back. “Happy to help, brother.”

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand before the cops show up, whaddaya say boys?” Reaper asks, appearing behind Slider in the doorway.

“Let’s roll,” Mo says, pointing toward the Escalade in the field.

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