Page 54 of Sold to the Bikers
By the time I see some movement, the last glowing ember of the sunset is gone. The streetlight above me is out, letting me watch from the shadows. The next one down, just outside the apartment building, flickers on and off to a rhythm only it knows. It makes the street look like it's in a fucking horror movie.
A shadow crosses behind the thin curtains in Natalie's apartment. Looks like Sandra's home. I'll give her a few more minutes just to make sure nothing's up, then head home. Natalie should be glad to hear it at least. Fuck, she's so worried about her little sister. The gods fucking know I know exactly how she feels.
Animal thinks I don’t understand why he feels the way he does. I do. I have for a long time, but there’s something about having a younger sibling look up to you… Shit, it terrifies me for the future. I want kids eventually, and I bet that’s the same times a fucking million.
I'm just about to fire up my bike when I sense movement in the shadows.
The fuck?
A couple of shapes separate themselves from the darkness, moving towards the apartment building. They're broad, definitely men, and it's obvious they're not looking to be seen. In this neighborhood, that could mean fucking anything. Dealers, burglars, who the fuck knows what else?
But there's something about the way they move that has me keeping still, waiting for a sign. It comes in the form of the streetlight flickering on, illuminating the two guys' cuts.
With the Unwanted logo across their backs.
Motherfucker.
We should still have a day before they make a move. Is Sandra involved in something we don’t know about? Or is she in trouble?
Nobody ever expects a guy as big as me to be able to move quickly, but that expectation won me a lot of fights when I was younger. I might not have the same reflexes as when I was at the top of my game, but I’m no fucking sloth. Keeping to the shadows, I slip after them to see what the fuck they're up to.
If they're here to cause trouble, I've got more than enough for each of them, and they can have as many fucking helpings as they want.
They test the front door to the apartment building. It rattles, but doesn't open. Someone actually fucking replaced the lock? I’ll have to let Quickshot know.
"Fuck," growls one of them. His voice is deep and wheezy. "It was supposed to be broken."
"Just rip it the fuck off. That lock ain't gonna hold for shit." The other guy's voice is oddly whiny.
There's more rattling. Fuck it, I'm not letting those shits break in. A few more steps, and then they're there, right in front of me. Definitely Unwanted. And definitely in fucking trouble.
"Hey, motherfuckers. I didn’t know it was cookie season yet. Where are your little green skirts?"
"What the fuck?" They whirl around together, just in time for me to grab the whiny one and slam him into the other guy. They go to the ground together in a jumble of limbs, like a fucking game of pickup sticks.
I'm on them in an instant, grabbing the bigger one by his collar and slamming my fist into his face. He groans as his head snaps back.
The little fucker is fast, though. Suddenly he's on my back, clinging like a fucking murder koala. He holds a knife to my throat and hisses, "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you're going to pay for this. Let go of my buddy, or I'm going to give you a new fucking mouth to bleed through."
I drop the fucker in front of me, but this isn't the first time I've had someone grab me from behind, and I can guarantee that I'm stronger than this fuck. And probably faster.
Grabbing his knife arm around the wrist, I pull it out and around, twisting until I hear a satisfying crack, followed by a pained scream. "Motherfucker!" He rolls off me, but I get a fist to the fucking jaw in return from the big guy. Fuck, I'm rusty. In my fighting days, taking on trash like this would've been a walk in the park.
Doesn't mean I'm gonna fucking lose, though.
When the big guy comes after me with a second punch, he’s so fucking clumsy I see it a mile away. I knock him aside and plant my fist so solidly in his face it fucking launches him. His feet go up, and he lands on the ground with a heavy thud, skidding across the grass. Lights fucking out, asshole.
The other one's palming his knife in his off hand, and I can fucking see it quiver as he points it towards me. Past the shaking blade, I find his wide eyes. He knows he's in fucking trouble if I wanna push the issue. I could fucking murder both of them, and no one would fucking miss them.
"Don't you fucking come a step closer." It's a threat of desperation. He doesn't have a damn chance.
I flip my cut open, letting the flickering street light reflect off the grip of my pistol. "I could’a killed you fuckers before you even saw me. I'm giving you one goddamn chance to get the fuck outta here before I execute the both of you. If I ever hear about you fuckers sniffing around his building again, I'll find you and finish the fucking job. That clear?" I rest my hand on my gun for effect.
The knife hand doesn't get any steadier, that's for fucking sure.
"We'll fuck off," he says. "No more trouble, okay? We're outta here. This shit ain't worth it."
"Wait. What the fuck were you doing here?"