Page 6 of Meaner Than Evil

I hit send and hold my breath.

The message sent confirmation 'delivered' appears under the blue bubble. I fill the lowball glass to the brim with the dark whisky and immerse my phone as Bill tops the entrance ramp and the car rolls onto the first level.

He immediately pulls into a spot occupied by a motorcycle turned sideways at the top of the box. He unbuckles, shifts in the seat, and points his gun at me. "Toss your phone up here."

I hold the glass and show him. "It's toast."

He curses.

My door opens, and a hand reaches in for me. I stupidly slap it away, and as the rest of the torso enters to retrieve me, the hand slaps my face so hard, my neck snaps back. The metallic, salty taste of my blood sprays my tongue.

"Get out, or I'll drag you out." The hooded man threatens as he grabs a handful of my hair and pulls. I spit the pooled blood in my mouth in his face, and he slaps me again. "Bitch!"

He drags my body out, and the cold air feels good on my swollen face and counters the effect of the alcohol. Then he shoves me up against the car and pins me there.

Bill opens his car door and then slams it shut.

I lift my knee and land a hard shot to my captor's balls. He grunts, doubling over, tightening his grip to keep from falling, bruising my arms. "Fucking cunt!"

Someone up against the wall in the shadow laughs.

Another man steps up next to me and pulls a knife, showing me the blade. It shines in the dim light. It's long and thick with a jagged edge. It's something a soldier would carry. He whispers menacingly, "Be very still, or youwillbe cut. Not killed. Sliced." He clarifies.

I glare at him, but I freeze, and he begins cutting my clothes off.

I hear shoes on the pavement, then Bill says, "Where's my money?"

The man in the shadow speaks. He has a thick accent. "In the black Honda on the roof."

I hear the sound of something being tossed and visualize a key fob, then footsteps running away.

My clothes begin to make a pile at my feet, and I break out in goosebumps from the cold air. The drug's effects are staying at bay but threatening.

A low whistle comes from the man in the shadow, then he walks over, saying, "You are going to bring a very high bid."

When I'm naked, the cutting man backs away, and my captive steps to the side, so the man from the shadow has a clear, unobstructed view.

Close enough to make my skin crawl, but far enough away my spit won't reach, Luis Morales stands in front of me. I breathe a small sigh of relief. The only middleman was Bill. There won't be a cluster fuck of criminals to navigate. The trail will lead directly to him. He's confident he won't get caught. Confident his crew is tight enough to hold his cover, but I'm equally sure Jack Black will find me.

Morales licks his lips and raises an eyebrow as he rakes his eyes over my nakedness, then says again. "You are going to bring a very high bid."

"And you are so fucked!" I announce.

"Is that an invitation?" He grins, unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoning his dress pants and sliding his zipper down. Reaching inside, he pulls a hard cock out to show me.

I swallow the urge to laugh, to taunt him, to piss him off, my fear giving way to anger.

The cut man returns with clothes and says, "Cooperate, or he will rape you right here."

I cut my eyes at him and then lower them. "Good. Hold out your arms." He says as he dresses me in a gray sweatsuit and sneakers. Then he takes a pill bottle from his pocket and says, "Open wide." He drops a white pill inside and tells me, "It won't matter if you swallow or not. You will fall asleep in a few seconds either way."

Four

Hammer

The sounds of the helicopter flying at low level reaches our ears only seconds before it breaks over the treetops and dusts us up with a small sandstorm. Everyone slaps their ball caps onto their heads, and we charge the aircraft as Dirk pulls the front up, flaring at the popped canister of smoke. Hovering only a foot off the ground, we pile in and each count off as we secure ourselves inside.

Crockett is first. "One, ready."

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