Page 13 of Outlaws’ Runaway

Lee plucks the bills from him with a smile. “Pleasure doing business with you.” She looks down at Neil. “You should see a dentist. I don’t think that smell is normal.” The two that were on the bed with him nod, and they all take off.

“Hey! You can't just—” Neil starts, but the rest gets cut off by his gasp when Savage reaches down and grabs him by the front of his t-shirt, and throws him back onto the sofa bed. It slams against the wall from the sudden extra weight, and there’s a sound of splintering wood.

Poe draws a black-handled knife from his belt and very deliberately places the blade up against Neil's throat. A tiny dot of blood forms along the shiny steel, showing exactly how close it is. Neil's breaths are down to short, shallow gasps. “You gonna tell us what the fuck we can or can't do?”

“N—no! Just take what you want and go! I swear to God I don’t know who you are!”

Savage crosses his powerful arms over his chest and glares. “I smell bullshit, Neil. Maybe you didn’t know who the locker was rented out to, but do I look like I was born yesterday? You found a bag full of cash and it didn’t make you stop and think that maybe it would be a bad idea to cross whoever owned it?”

“Shit, oh shit,” Neil whispers. “Look, I don’t usually take much, you know? A little here and there. I just lost my mind when I sawthe cash. I didn’t even know what to do with that much. I’ve only used a few grand. I swear!”

Savage’s growl sends shivers down my spine, and at the exact same moment, a lusty groan comes from the TV. I can’t take it anymore. I grab the remote from nearby and turn it off. They all look at me.

“What?” My voice comes out high and panicked.

Crank chuckles. “Nothing. Just enjoying the show.”

“Don’t be gross!”

He leans in. “I meant you, honey.

“Where’s the rest?” Savage demands.

“End—end of the hall!” Neil points. “It’s in the bedroom. I didn’t use much, I swear! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't kill me.” I'm not used to seeing grown men break down into sobs, but given his situation, I don't exactly blame him.

Savage jerks his head in the same direction. “Go look.”

Crank nods.

“You’re not going to… you know, actually kill him. Right?”

“Not if he behaves.” Savage answers, but he also pulls his gun out of his belt and holds it loosely at his side. “Alright, fuckface. Pick up what you’ve tossed around here. I don't wanna fucking touch those bills after you've been rolling around on them.”

“Y—yes!”

Poe moves so Neil can follow the instructions. If this wasn't deathly serious, the sight of him scrambling to pick up all thebills would be hilarious, but until I know if the bikers will leave him alive when this is over, I can’t really enjoy it. As much stress as this has added to everything, I don’t actually want anyone to die.

“Got it.” Crank hefts the bag as he comes out of the bedroom. “Looks like he hasn’t had time to burn through too much, though I haven't counted.” He grins as he spins a pair of my underwear around his finger. “Guessing these aren’t Neil's.”

I cringe. “I thought making it look like laundry would be less obvious. You don't have to wave them around like a flag.”

He eyes the frilly underwear with a smirk. “This isn’t nearly enough fabric to hide a million bucks.”

“Give me that!” When he holds it out, I snag it faster than the sex workers took their payment. “We’re professionals, Paige,” I say in a mocking voice.

“Work hard, play hard, baby.” Crank’s smile stretches wide so wide that his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“What do we do about him?” Poe gestures with his knife, and just the motion is enough to make Neil scramble back until he's against the back of the couch.

Poe cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. “I don't know if it’s a good idea to leave him around. He’s seen a lot. What do you think, Neil?”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he blubbers, then swallows hard. “I ain’t seen nothing! And I swear I won’t say a fucking word! Please don't kill me. Please!” A dark spot spreads on the front of his boxers, and I look away when I see wetness glistening on his bare legs.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Savage annunciates slowly, death in every word.

“Come on. We’re done here,” Crank tells me.

To my relief, they leave him shivering in a bed of his own making, but alive.

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