Page 29 of Property of Indiana

“Two minutes and twelve seconds!” Icer shouts, playing with his Zippo. He ignites the flame then slams the lid shut only to start all over again. Screeches are heard from the women who do everything they can to get out of his path of destruction.

Icer, adding fuel to the fire, begins pacing as he plays with the lighter and twirling the bomb in his hand, whistling. I’m not sure what it is with him and that harmonic act of his, but it has everyone shivering in fear. I’m so wound up that it’s not affecting me like it usually would. Pretending like I’m bored, I lean back on the saddle of my Harley and cross my ankles as I bring my phone out and within viewing range.

“Nobody?” I ask the town, shaking my head in disappointment. “Light it up, Icer!”

“Fire in the hole!” Icer bellows as he lights the rag sticking out of the top and tosses it like a grenade.

As the rest of the people who are around scatter, I ready myself for the explosion that’s about to rock the center of town. For some reason, I find myself humming along to Icer’s tune, then shake my head when I realize it’s another fucking song from one of the many Disney movies he and Elodie have binge watched. Yet amazingly, I don’t give that first fuck.

My brother, the one who I’ve been alongside for years now, has opened up his admittedly black heart to two women who hold my own in their hands. When Zoey disappeared on me, it broke me into a million pieces. Sure, I fucked other women, but it was for the temporary release and when it started getting old, I went back to Rosie and her four sisters.

“Stop!” The sheriff booms as he comes running out of his office. “Stop this right now!”

The anger that’s been riding me hard rises to the surface. Sheriff Maloney becomes my target and the focus of all that rage. I whip my gun from the back of my jeans and point it at his forehead,directly between his eye sockets. “Gonna tell me where your boy has my woman and daughter stored, asshole?”

“You have no evidence it was my son who took your family, Indiana,” he states, his hand resting on the butt of his revolver.

Icer, noticing the standoff, walks up behind the sheriff with a grenade in hand, removing the pin and pulling out the front of his uniform pants. “If I drop this, that puny dick of yours is going to be blown off. Wanna try telling the truth this time, sheriff?” Icer’s tone is calm even though I can see death in his eyes.

“Are you nuts!” the sheriff bellows. “Put that pin back in, Icer!”

“Nah. I don’t think I will until you tell me what I want to know. Where is my princess?”

“Before you lie again and tell us your asshole son isn’t involved, we know differently,” I taunt. “He and his accomplices may have thought they killed our prospect, but he’s alive and has shared all he knows. So, get to talking, Maloney.”

I don’t give him the dignity of using his official title of sheriff because he’s corrupt and has done everything to look the other way as the Dragons ran roughshod over the townspeople. That ends today. We’ve tried handling things behind the scenes, but Jerome’s move today has tossed that shit to the wayside.

“Remember,nobody fucks with the Kings!”Icer bellows. “Nobody!”

“You won’t get away with this,” the sheriff says. He may think he has an ace up his sleeve since Patrick’s mother is the District Attorney. Patrick may be Jerome’s right-hand man, but as far as we’re concerned, Patrick’s mother is just another shitstain in our town. But here’s the problem with the sheriff’s sentimentabout being safe from harm by the Kings through his connection through the DA, she is the next perpetrator on our list. We don’t give a shit what title she holds, or the fact that she’s a woman, she’s been sweeping the Dragons’ bullshit under the rug long enough. That ends today.

“Watch us,” I jeer. “Time’s a’wasting, y’all. We need information and we need itnow.”

His eyes stay glued to the grenade held in Icer’s hand. “I’ll tell you what you want to know once he disarms this,” he states, his eyes pointed toward the explosive device.

“Or,” Icer sings, “I put it back together once you tell us what we want to know.”

“Either way works for me as long as we get what we’re looking for,” I add.

“Fuck. Okay, okay.” Well, that was easier than I thought it’d be. I knew he’d squeal, the fucker has no backbone or loyalty. “They’re out at the old Kmart warehouse off of Trade Days Road,” he states. Then, he looks at me and says, “There are bigger fish to fry in this town than the Dragons, Indiana. May wanna look closer to home.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna be trying to figure out any puzzles today,Sheriff,”I sneer.

“Zoey’s parents,” he replies as Icer smacks the back of his head. “And their church. Do you honestly think any of the men in the Dragons have the smarts to do anything more than juvenile bullshit like graffiti? Their strings are being pulled like they’re those fucking marionette puppets.”

I stand in disbelief because if Zoey’s parents are involved, that’s probably why they forced her to come back to town. I mentally add them as well as the preacher from their church to the list of folks we’ll be interrogating. Now that we have a location, we need to lock the sheriff down so he doesn’t squeal to the Dragons that the Kings are coming. I drop the address to Riptide then jump on my bike as Icer and I burn rubber through town, locked and loaded as we head to the old Kmart facility.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

ZOEY

“Getyour goddamn filthy paws off me!” I yell as I’m manhandled down the hallway and tossed into a bathroom no bigger than a broom closet and as dark as a cave.

“Shower, you have ten minutes before I come back in. If you’re not clean, I’ll be washing you my damn self.” Shivers race up and down my spine because there’s only one reason I can think of that they’d want me to bathe.

Still, as disgusted as I am about what’s to come, I refuse to let that piece of shit put his hands on me. I try to mentally prepare myself, using the tools I learned through therapy, but it’s next to impossible. At least before, I honestly didn’t know what was about to happen whereas this time, I’m knowingly, albeit unwillingly, heading into the lion’s den like a lamb being led to its slaughter.

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