Page 8 of Accepting Fate
Wes isn’t only a man of few words; he also has the ability to walk into a room without anyone hearing him approach. The man is like a fucking cat.
It also helps that the asshat has the action movie turned up so loud that I can hear it from outside the window.
Wes and Noah gain entry and I keep my post in case things get out of control. I know Landon told me to go straight for the victims, but I can’t leave my brothers with this unpredictable dickhead until I know they have him under their control.
Wes stays in the shadows of the door while Noah slowly approaches the unsuspecting man in his chair and just as he’s about to wrap his arms around the man’s throat, the fucker jumps up and raises a gun pointing it straight at Noah’s head.
Normally, in situations like this, someone would freak the hell out. But not Noah. He tilts his head to the ceiling and bursts out laughing.
“What the hell are you laughing at?! Get the fuck out of my house!” Dr. Dickhead yells.
Noah continues to laugh, causing the man to get even more pissed off and launches himself at Noah over the recliner.
Clearly this guy has learned his fighting skills from movies because the chair just falls backward and causes him to land straight on his face. Noah takes the opportunity to step on the man’s hand that holds the gun and kicks the gun towards the door to Wes.
I start to step back. The boys have this dumbass under control. But just as I begin my search for the shed, my radio hums to life. Wesley’s voice comes in almost inaudibly because of how quiet it is. I lift it up to my ear to hear better.
“Wait. He’s faking.” As soon as Wes finishes, Dr. Dickhead jumps up like a fucking ninja and catches Noah completely off guard with a fist straight to his jaw.
Noah’s stunned expression only lasts for a second before he rubs his jaw. He spits the blood from his busted lip in the man's face and punches him in the nose. It becomes an all-out brawl with the two trading punch after punch, Dr. Dickhead missing more than he attempts.
Wesley keeps his spot in the corner, and I suspect it's in case Dr. Dickhead pulls another gun out.
Noah finally gets him to the ground and begins searching him.
Out of nowhere, I see movement out of the corner of my eye and whip around, coming face to face with an older man raising a shovel over his head. He begins to swing down, and I throw myself to the side. The shovel connects with the window causing it to shatter. I quickly get to my feet as the older man runs at me. He drops his shoulder and attempts to knock me over, but unfortunately for him, I have about half a foot on him and about seventy pounds. I grab his arms as he connects a flailing fist with my jaw.
I’ll give it to the man, he put all his power behind that, and it actually stung a little.
I’m about to take the man down to the ground and call out for Landon when Wes runs from behind the other side of the house and grabs the man by his throat, slamming him against the side of the house.
“Why the fuck aren’t you with Noah,” I say angrily.
“Landon is with him. Noah kicked the asshole in the head. He’s out.” Wes replies calmly as if he isn't crushing an old man’s windpipe with his bare hands.
Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention to the man, “Tell me where they are and I’ll advise Hulk here, to kill you quickly.”
The old man is seconds from passing out. When he doesn’t answer Wes whips out his knife and begins pressing the blade into his abdomen, blood slowly staining his shirt. The man's cries echoing off the surrounding trees.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to tell me, or your death will be just as painful as your accomplice's.”
I begin counting, and Wes digs his knife deeper as the numbers grow smaller. Just as I get to five, the man jerks his head, “Stop! Stop! Behin-Behind the house in the shed at the back of the property,” he frantically spits out.
Wes slowly pulls the knife out and I pat his shoulder. “Now, was that hard?”
Wes gives me a signal that he’s got him and to go look for the victims.
I begin walking away glancing in the window to see Landon and Noah restraining Dr. Dickhead with ropes and duct tape.
I get about five feet away when I look back to Wes and the old man, “Oh yeah I forgot to mention, if they are hurt in any way, your death will be just as ugly as the fucker inside.” The old man pales and looks seconds from passing out.
I hope the victims aren’t severely hurt or dead, but I also know there's a next to nothing chance they aren’t hurt at all.
The older man's face is a giveaway that he will be meeting a slow and painful death and I will come face to face with something I’ll never forget.
I make my way as quickly as possible to the shed. I pull the flashlight out of my back pocket and scan the area for other unexpected visitors. As I reach the shed, bile rises up my throat as I take in the scene.
This isn’t a typical shed. It’s so small. My closet at home isn’t big and this thing could fit in there.