Page 64 of Truck Stop Tempest

“NO OFFENSE, TUCK.But there’s a more efficient and effective way to deal with these pestilent bastards.”

Tucker chuckled, tightening the knot binding dangerdawg69’s hands behind his back. “You mean like shoving their cocks through a meat grinder. One of those old-fashioned hand crank models?”

I grabbed the unconscious fucker’s ankles. Tucker took the other end, and we hoisted him, with more muscle than necessary, into the small ditch fifty yards behind where his truck was parked. He wouldn’t wake for two hours at least. Not with the shit I’d injected into his neck.

“Wasn’t what I had in mind, but I like that idea.” I pulled my cap lower and followed Tucker back to the lot. “I’ve killed men for lesser crimes, you know. Made them disappear.”

“We’re trying to do good here, remember? Believe me, I want to choke the life out of every one of these child rapists. Gotta choose our battles. We’re here to get these girls out of the life. Give them a chance.”

We stayed in the shadows. Tucker headed back to the cab of dangerdawg69’s truck, while I headed to our unmarked sedan parked closer to the restroom. From my position, I had a full view of the lot. We settled in and waited for the minivan that would deliver our girl.

I tapped my Bluetooth earpiece. “Tell me again why we aren’t targeting the pimps?”

“I’ve been a one-man show until now. Couldn’t do it all.”

I could.

From my laptop, I entered the chatroom where dangerdawg69 had arranged his date, alerted the pimp that everything was set, and gave him a description of the rig.

“Right. So, then you’ve got nothing against me messing with them a bit?”

Tucker laughed. “Define messing with them.”

“Meat grinder type of shit.”

After a long silence, and a few heavy breaths, Tuck said, “What you do on your own time is none of my business.”

Good answer.

I watched from a safe distance across the parking lot, while Tucker shifted in his seat and tilted his head. “Blue van. On my left.” He flashed his lights twice.

A blue Sienna rolled into sight, headlights flashing in response, and parked two slots down from Tucker. A girl, I guessed not taller than four-ten slunk out the passenger door, wearing jeans and high-heeled boots. A loose-fitting blouse hung off her shoulders, revealing a bare neck and underdeveloped cleavage. Curly white hair covered most of her face. She’d yet to shed her baby fat, and she still carried that awkward pre-teen self-consciousness like a heavy wool blanket.

My stomach rolled at the sight.

Fucking hell. A child. I’d seen dark, disgusting shit in my life. Knew depravity well. Wasn’t a stranger to the sex-trade industry.

I’d never been ashamed of my sexual proclivities until I watched that girl, that baby, swallow her fear, choke back her tears, and unwillingly head Tucker’s way to trade her body, and her innocence, for a few pieces of green paper that would be snatched from her tiny fingers the moment she returned to that goddamn minivan.

I wanted to grab the piece of shit sitting behind the wheel and flay him, out in the open, for everyone to see.

Did that make me a hypocrite? Damn straight.

Did I give a fuck? Hell, no.

Over our private connection, I listened while Tucker played his part, luring the girl inside the safety of the cab, putting on a show to make it look like she was performing as instructed. I listened to their exchange, the terror in the child’s voice, the desperation, and I damn near broke.

When Tucker stuck the needle in her thigh and she fell unconscious against him, he cursed under his breath and mumbled, “Never gets easier.”

The rustle of clothing and Tucker’s heavy breaths crackled through my earpiece. Then silence. Then, “You’re on, Tito.”

Hell, yeah. My turn.

I flipped the switch for the police siren and flashed the blue lights mounted on my dash before pulling forward and rolling through the rows of parked semis straight toward the pimp’s vehicle. Two women scrambled, half-naked, out of two different cabs on opposite ends of the lot and ran into the woods lining the rest stop.

The blue Toyota tore out of its parking spot and sped toward the freeway on-ramp.

Too easy.

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