Page 49 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

“That’s far enough,” he states when we are fully outside.

“Now what are your names, and what are you doing here?”

“My name is Ethan Blackwood, and this is my friend Sophia Delgado. We were just passing through and didn’t have a place to stay. We’re sorry if we’re on your land. We’ll be moving along immediately.”

His face changes, and a slight smile tugs at his lips.

“Blackwood, you say?”

“Yes sir.”

“Seems you’re famous, son,” he announces, lowering his weapon.

“I am?” I ask, wondering what he’s talking about.

“You responsible for those two bodies they found in North Carolina?”

I nod slowly, not wanting to go any further or make any admissions I may later regret.

“Shit son, your name’s all over the news,” he says with a laugh. “You sure as hell kicked over a hornets’ nest. The cops wanna talk with you, but it sounds like they’re more interested in the two guys you popped and where they came from.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I’m ready to talk with them.”

“Hell, son, your secret’s safe with me. As you might imagine, we have sort of a low opinion of law enforcement in these parts. We like to handle things ourselves. Tell you what, why not come overto my place up the road? Me and the wife will feed you; you can take a shower and be on your way.”

“Name is Ed, by the way, Ed Kramer,” the man says.

I stumble a bit as I move forward, heavily favoring my injured leg.

“You gonna be OK?” he asks with concern.

“I’ll be fine. One of the men got me in the leg, but it’s through-and-through. Just need to keep it bandaged up.”

“Well, you can do that up at the house, too.”

“Much obliged,” I say, trying to mirror his folksy dialog, one of the tricks I learned that helps to make a connection with people. “If it’s not too much of an imposition.”

“Not at all. You get dressed and gather your things. We’re just up the road there on the left,” he says, motioning to a little frame house just visible at the top of a low hill.

“See you two in a bit,” he says, walking away.

“Can we trust him,” Sophia asks, as we walk back into the barn.

“I think so. If he wanted to do anything to us, he had the chance.”

We dress quickly and pack our stuff in the car. We have plenty of money, so it’s not a matter of not being able to afford breakfast, but it’ll be good to have a homemade meal for a change.

We get in the car and drive up the hill.

“What if he kept us alive so he could turn us into the police—or someone even more dangerous?”

That’s possible, I think, but for some reason I trust the old man.

As we pull up to the house, the man is waiting there for us.

I open the door, but as soon as I exit, he raises his shotgun, pointing it right at my chest, a dangerous expression fixed on his face.

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