Page 10 of Flint

The good doc isn’t implying that they’d keep me here against my will, is he?

“Pretty sure you couldn’t keep me here if you tried.”

“I’ve got enough meds to knock you out and have you forget everything, including how to talk. We've got more than enough manpower to keep you locked away. If someone comes looking, we’ve got enough people who would gladly say they witnessed nothing out of the ordinary. This place might look like any other building, but the walls have secrets, and no one would find you if we gave half a mind about you.”

Okay, so there’s something seriously creepy about a doctor—I think I can classify him as that since he knows what the fuck he’s doing—patching you up while threatening you. He’s got the medical tone going on, like he’s talking to someone about how he had coffee for breakfast, and he read something in the paper. He never speaks in anger. Gives no emotional response at all.

Then just threatened that he would and could do whatever he or his club wants and no one would find the body.

My body.

I think now is a good time to go back to thinking positive thoughts about not dying.

“I… I think I’ll pass on the meds, then.”

My words make General chuckle. A deep tone that would make me shiver a bit if my eyes weren’t trained on the man sitting in front of me.

We just look at each other. Not the sort of look like we’re checking out the other, not like before with the whole tits thing. More like assessing the other, sizing them up.

I’m seriously wondering if he plans to kill me, how he would probably cut my body into pieces and put them in a wall. I mean, what else was General implying? They got secret passages behind them? Oh, that would be cool. Wonder if exploring them would be off-limits before they chop me up.

I have no clue what he’s thinking. Probably how he’ll kill me and not get blood on himself. He seems like the type who doesn’t like sticky things. No idea why I think it, just do.

“Give her the shot.”

Well, it was nice knowing you, world. I think.

“Um, could you let me explore the tunnels before you cut me up?”

Chapter 5 – Flint

T

his girl is crazy. Certifiable. And I kind of like it.

Girl seriously thought we would kill her. We still might, but we don’t chop people up. Not unless they really piss us off. For her, being that she’s mouthy, we would just throw her body into the river. Wouldn’t even bother burying her, not caring enough who finds her. Maybe she would float up, maybe not. Out of our hands.

For a mouthy piece who we don’t even give two fucks about, that’s what we do. For ones we don’t want found, we make sure they aren’t. And for the others we want to leave a lasting impression about? Well, let’s just say we ain’t above hand delivery.

Killing isn’t my thing, nor is it the club’s. We do it. We just don’t make it the center focus of the club. That honor goes to brotherhood. Each of us would die for the others. And, in theory, their property. Unless a person is fucking stupid and does shit that ain’t right. Yeah, talking about myself here.

“That wasn’t Tylenol, was it?” she asks.

I don’t even look at her as she zips up the hoodie General helped put on her. “Nope.”

“It was something to keep me awake, wasn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I’m guessing if I went to sleep, I might not have woken up?”

I turn to her and lift my eyebrow. “You ain’t fucking Sleeping Beauty.”

“Of course not. Her story had a dragon. I got a three-headed dog. What’s that called, anyway?”

“Cerberus. The hound of Hades and guardian to the gates of the underworld.”

“Wow, didn’t take you all for big Greek mythology types. It fits, though, which is probably why you have it everywhere.”

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