Page 124 of Dozer

With my 9mm tucked in my jeans behind my cut, a handful of bullets stuffed into my pockets, and a knife strapped to my belt, I slipped out the side door of the MC.

The powerful vibration of my bike rocketed through my bloodstream. I slipped on my riding glasses, gloves, and skull tube mask. The engine roared as I raced down the street toward the Hills neighborhood.

Once there, I circled the block twice. Most people were getting home from work, unaware of the evil that had been living among them. They could thank me later, but their good neighbor, the academic, wouldn’t be returning to the neighborhood.

The two-story house was quiet. I throttled back, but the bike still rumbled. The thing I loved most about my bike was also going to get me caught casing the house.

A single car drive led to a small garage. I rested my bike, stored my helmet on the clutch, and slipped on the beanie. Breaking in during the day was risky,but every minute that fucker had her was another minute of terror for Pippa.

Sidling around the house, I went through the lower floor window we’d kicked in. I crawled through and dropped to the floor. I shoved a cigarette between my lips and lit it. I listened, with my pulse kicking like a fucking machine gun, for any sounds.

The house was eerily silent as I made my way from room to room. The professor had a fuck ton more money that I did to afford the pimped-out crib.

Besides a typical living room, the lower level was a weekend wet dream with a bar, pool table, and theater style seating in from of a wall-sized movie screen. I could imagine her here, drinking wine spritzers and watching foreign films in Italian. All I’d be able to offer was a rented room in a smoke-filled MC.

None of this shit mattered to her. My girl wasn’t going to be impressed with a state-of-the-art kitchen. She cooked like shit. Pippa wanted to laugh, catch a ride off my high and fuck.

With a renewed wave of fear and rage, I kicked over his end table, shattering the glass. He took her, and she was fucking mine.

I climbed the stairs to the upper level. I strode down the hall to the room that faced the street, the one where he sat behind the glow of the laptop computer. Remembering sent a fresh wave of rage through me.

I slowly entered the room. Nausea roiled in my gut. He’d violated her privacy, her life for months. The obsession Anatomy had with Pippa was graphically revealed in the photos and writings.

There were pictures of her throughout the room. I stood at the window and glanced down to the street. A lady walked her dog on a leash. The neighborhood was quiet. I released a breath. If I’d been seen entering the house, cops would be at the door.

Anatomy had a decorative glass bowl on the shelf. I used it as an ashtray and stubbed out my cigarette, then put the filter into my pocket. I still wore my gloves. No fingerprints, no DNA. I was in the fucking system. I wasn’t going to go down for breaking and entering, but I’d have no problem leaving my fingerprints around the fucker’s neck.

A large L-shaped desk sat in the corner with stacks of printed photos. In most of the shots, Pippa seemed to be unaware she was being photographed. Fuck this. I grabbed the garbage can and dumped the contents on the floor. Then, pulling a chair near the table, I went through each picture and tossed it into the garbage.

There were printed pictures of her in the Union Center with her arms around Rook and a big fucking happy smile on her face. I could look at the picture and hear her giggle.

I crushed the paper in my hand. There were pictures of her sitting in her car at red lights. Pictures of her with Romeo. I froze, my hand trembled, and a dark swirling vortex of pissed burned through every muscle tensing in my body.

Pippa, on my lap while on the porch, my hands on her ass with a blanket crumpled around us. I tore the picture in half then tore it again. I shredded it because that moment was mine. Fuck him.

I dumped all the printed photos into the garbage. I didn’t need any fucking evidence. When I found him, he was dead. Ripping open the bottom drawer, I fished through documents, home warrantees, and shit for his teaching credentials.

Nothing I found gave a hint on where he could have Pippa. We needed Gabi’s connection to come through. I couldn’t think about any other outcome than getting her back. One fucking beautiful thing happened in my life, and now, she had been taken from me, too.

I dropped to my knees and roared into the silence. “Fuck!”

Fuck every bad thing that had ever happened to me, every bad thing I’d ever done. Nothing hurt like this. Nothing else mattered.

After I’d gone through the office, I went through his whole fucking house. Anything I found connected to Pippa, I carried to the living room and set next to the fireplace. I wasn’t sure if the panties I found in his bedroom were hers, but those were going into the fire, too.

Once I had a fire blazing, I sparked a joint and watched his collection of my girl burn.

***

My phone vibrated. For a disorienting moment, I’d forgotten where I was. A burned-out fire, the darkness out the window, with only the glow of a distant street light and the glaring screen of my phone to blink the room into focus.

“Hey,” I said, knowing I sounded groggy and wondering how the fuck I could have fallen asleep.

“Where are you?” Vance asked.

“Anatomy’s house.” I leaned forward and pinched the bridge of my nose to fight the tears from filling my eyes. “I burned everything…anything connected to her.”

“Gabi’s on the phone with Alex. His guys have the computer. They found something.”

---