Page 29 of Hiding In the Dark (The Righteous 4)
Flicking the furry hitchhiker off his arm to live another day, he dashed off through the brush until he was in line with the Escalade but out of sight of the trail camera he’d spotted. He hadn’t seen any more attached to the trees, but there could be more he hadn’t seen, so he kept his hood up and head down as he sprinted toward his destination.
Opening the back hatch just enough, he slipped inside and pulled the door tight, locking it in place. He didn’t have to wait long for Slim Jim to return, and he lay as flat as he could in the vacant hatch area as the man started the engine. Kes had to brace himself to avoid rolling around as the man backed up and took off like he was in a Formula One.
The sound of a phone ringing came over the speakers, and Slim Jim answered with a gruff, “What?”
A mechanical voice that was obviously being distorted with an app of some sort chuckled through the vehicle. “Is that any way to talk to your best customer?”
“Oh fuck, I thought you were someone else.” Kes rolled his eyes as the man spent the next minute kissing whoever was on the phone’s ass. The guy probably felt the thorough rim job from wherever the fuck he was.
“Are you in need of more wine?” Slim Jim asked.
“Indeed, what vintages do you have available?”
“Everything from dark to light, and even some robust, exotic flavors for you to try.”
Kes ground his teeth. The urge to jump out now and slit the man’s throat flowed through his veins like a fast-moving forest fire. He pictured Slim Jim’s bright red blood spattering the steering wheel and windshield, his eyes wide in shock as he groped to stop the bleeding in his neck—the fear dancing in Slim Jim’s eyes as they stared at him in the rearview mirror as he fucking smiled back.
“Do you have anything that is not too aged?”
“Everything from nine years to fifteen years is ready and waiting to be shipped out. Just let me know how many cases you require for your store.”
“I will take a case of ten years of white wine, twelve years of dark red, and fifteen years of a more exotic blend to try. I would like to place a special custom order as well, if I could.”
“Of course, what would you like?”
“I’d like to order a wine that no one else has tried. One aged to eighteen years to perfection. This case needs to be special for a very special and high-paying customer.”
“Yes, of course, we can certainly accommodate that order. I will have the shipper put it together right away and will send you an invoice as well as a delivery date.”
“Until next time.” The man placing the order hung up, and it was a good thing, or Kes was going to follow through on his fantasy before he got what he really needed: information.
He counted down the minutes in his head, noted the direction the vehicle turned and any other distinct noises as they traveled. It took exactly thirty-three minutes and forty-one seconds before they pulled through a set of gates that whirred as they opened. Laid out like a fucking turtle stranded on it’s back, he was able to see the gates close as they pulled through. Tall, black, and fancy. It was wrong that a piece of shit like this got to live in a mansion and the kids he was selling had nothing and no future. All forms of authority, like the cops, had their hands tied. He’d seen what that was like firsthand overseas. To know what was right, but the political tape was always in the way. The Righteous gave him the freedom to do what they couldn’t and that was permanently take the targets out. The fact he got to do it anyway he liked, was a bonus.
The shadow of a door opening up and swallowing up the car announced they had arrived at their next destination. The Escalade shut off, and the vehicle rocked as the door was slammed shut.
“Baby Doll,” he whispered into his watch now that he was alone in the car. “Track my location, and go park at the coordinates I just sent.” Kes stared at the small map on his wrist. They were located in a gated community. Okay, the first task was complete. Now for task two, capture the prey.
Kes poked his head up like a groundhog and stared through the glass around the spacious garage. It was still too light outside as of now for what he had planned. Settling back down into the surprisingly comfortable trunk space, he waited like the good little predator he was.
He was formulating a plan to kidnap Slim Jim from his bed when the door leading from the garage into the house opened and the man of the hour returned.
“I need to buy a fucking lottery ticket,” Kes smirked as he laid flat once more.
Slim Jim slipped into the driver’s seat and sniffed. “Man, I need to get this car cleaned. It fucking reeks.”
Kes sniffed himself and shrugged. He’d smelt worse.
He felt like he was a fly on a dog’s ass hitching a ride. Slim Jim pulled out of his garage and sped up the street despite the late hour.
This time when he poked his head up, he watched the man in the small mirror carefully. Slim Jim was distractedly flicking through radio stations, and he wanted to yell, ‘just pick one already.’ On the bright side, Slim Jim wasn’t registering the danger that lurked so close by. Kes slid over the seat and proceeded to lay on the floor behind Slim Jim. He took a quick look at his watch and tapped the face, hiding it under the front seat so as not to be noticed.
Kes took the chance and looked out the side window, and a grin spread across his face. He really needed to go and buy a Powerball ticket. The surrounding buildings and the scent of cookies in the air screamed that they were in the heart of the industrial section. He’d know that mouth-watering scent anywhere. The cookie factory made a mean oatmeal chocolate chip cookie and were always handing out the broken cookies in boxes for free if you came around midnight. Kes had already spent a lot of time down here and he knew most of the buildings were abandoned and the cameras were few and far between. Lady Luck sure was shining down on him tonight. Slim Jim there must have pissed her beautiful ass off.
Inch by silent inch, Kes pulled the hidden blade from his boot and got himself into position to make his strike. The Escalade slowed and turned into a warehouse empty except for a lone girl standing in the shadows.
Kes had seen her before—she worked the corner across from some of the prostitutes he’d had to help in the past. She wore a standard skimpy outfit for her trade, the short skirt not leaving anything to the imagination. Her face was done up with so much makeup that you would think she was in her twenties, but he knew she was barely sixteen. Oh, this was so not happening.
Rising up just enough, he pulled his gun instead, returning his knife to its sheath. He kept it concealed where the girl couldn’t see, pressing the cold tip into the neck of the man he was hiding behind. His cock twitched as the man sucked in a shuddering breath.
