Page 45 of Double Trouble
“Just, more recently. Like today, for instance,” Owen said.
She shrugged, frown going to one side of her face. “Now that you’re mentioning it…” She squinted, sniffed. “Out back, I was having a smoke, and I saw there’s some people going in that old wreck across the parking lot.”
“The warehouse, you mean?” I asked, and she nodded.
“What kind of people?” I asked.
“What is this?” she demanded. “Twenty questions?”
Owen handed her another twenty, which seemed to appease her a bit. “Two beefy guys and a fat woman, although it was hard to tell from so far away.”
That was all I needed to know. It wasn’t a for-sure lead, but it was something.
“Thanks,” I told her, before leaving.
She grinned at us with teeth that were clearly false. “Thank you. Ain’t usual that boys just come here to talk.”
As we rounded the back of Roxanne’s, we realized the problem immediately. What looked to be the main entrance from here, a dismal closed door, was not the ideal way to get in if it happened that whoever the stripper had seen were guarding Cin. We’d have to find a different way; a way that didn’t announce our presence right away.
We made our way there by walking a big arc, so that we were on the far side of the building. There, as we drew near, it became quickly apparent that getting in was the least of our worries. Just about every window was smashed. So, all we had to do was crouch down, be careful to avoid the glass shards in the window panes, and climb on in.
Inside, we looked up and up and up.
“Shit,” Owen said.
‘Shit’ was right. This place was massive. With shelving that reached sky-high, lined with smashed computers and other electronics, as well as an interior that loomed far ahead, we clearly had our work cut out for us.
As we set ahead, we walked quickly but quietly, gazes roving. After only a few minutes, it became clear we were nearing whoever was in here. They were talking and joking.
Another minute or so and I saw the two beefy men in question. I went behind the final shelving unit with Owen, until I heard a sharp inhale of breath.
He nudged me and I saw her. Cin.
“Ok,” Owen was whispering. “Let’s not be stupid about this. Maybe, we can wait until they’re not looking and sneak…”
I didn’t hear the rest of it because I was too busy running out at them, fists raised.
“JAKE!” Owen yelled, but it was too late. I was upon them.
The men were beefy, sure, but I had taken them by surprise and I was pissed. My first hit waylaid the taller guy, sending him staggering back. The other swung a punch that caught me in the gut that I barely felt. I couldn’t afford to lose.
The first guy had his hand on a gun, but I stamped down onto his wrist. He yelped, and I grimaced.
A loud shriek surprised me. Next thing I knew something hard was crashing down onto my head. I staggered to all fours, then twisted around, my leg coming out and catching a fat woman in the shin. Owen smashed his fist into her gut and she flopped to the ground satisfyingly.
Although we weren’t finished with the two men. The one whose hand I’d stomped on was attempting to reach for the gun with his other hand. I kicked the gun out of reach, just as his foot connected with my shin.
I wobbled, but stayed upright, using the last of my energy to give him an ending punch to the face. He was out, and I turned around to find that Owen had dealt with the other guy too. He was half-conscious, although awake enough for him to understand when I took my knife and held it to his neck.
“You can tell Rodney if he ever messes with either of us or lays a hand on Cin again, we won’t bother calling the cops, we’ll finish him ourselves.”
The man slumped down, although he nodded his understanding. Good. I’d meant every word of it.
“Hurry,” Owen said, running to Cin and picking her bound form up. “There could be more coming. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
We ran out the way we’d come, although we luckily saw no one. None of us tried talking, were too high on adrenaline.
Only once we’d gotten Cin into the car and untied, did any of us speak.
“Thank you,” she said hoarsely.
I couldn’t stop touching her, I found. It was as if as soon as I let go of her hand, somehow, she’d disappear out of reach.
I looked her over. She didn’t look hurt – but then again, harm didn’t always leave physical bruises.
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I asked.
She shook her head, trying and failing to smile.
“I’m sorry,” Owen said from the front. “Rodney wanted more money than what I paid him back for. This is all my fault. If I’d known he’d take you, then I would’ve never…”
