The Killer's New Obsession - Page 37

“It’s a shame, what happened here,” Irene said softly, looking up at a row home with a big gothic peak in the front. Some of the buildings were truly gorgeous, though in disrepair. Folks around here couldn’t afford the upkeep that hundred-year-old decorations demanded, and the city didn’t give a damn about them anyway.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Just the way all the jobs left and now look at it.” She gestured around and shrugged. “Lots of good people live in this place, you know. Not their fault there isn’t any money.”

“I know,” I said softly, then leaned over the steering wheel. “I think that’s the place.”

Ahead at the end of the block was a row home standing along with a street on its right and a trash-strewn lot on its left. The door was painted blue, which was exactly what Sasha told us to look out for.

Sasha was one of the names Kira gave us before leaving town. Sasha seemed interested in my plan and said she’d be willing to help—if we helped her first.

I passed the house, went around the block, and parked midway down the street. I spotted two other cars I recognized. “Linc and Franco are in position,” I said.

“Are you sure about this?” Irene asked. “The last time we went to a meeting with one of Kira’s girls, it ended in an ambush.”

I grunted and shook my head. I wasn’t sure at all, but I couldn’t tell her that. Fact was, I had a plan, but I needed at least one girl to turn and help us, and I hoped that would be Sasha. She seemed interested, eager almost, and I liked that she wasn’t shy about asking for something right away, as if she’d been waiting for someone to approach her like this.

“We’re going in anyway,” I said, killing the engine. “You know your part?”

“Stay here and keep quiet,” she said, sliding down further. “I can handle that.”

“Good. Keep the doors locked.” I stepped out of the car, fingering the gun shoved into my waistband. “It’s a bad neighborhood, after all.” I gave her a wolfish grin, shut the door, and walked down the block.

Figures stepped out of the other cars. Linc in his black jeans and black shirt, and Franco and Alvaro, both of them loading their guns. I met up with the group and we hurried into the abandoned lot beside the house, crouching down next to a pile of burned and half-melted tires.

“We need the girl alive,” I said softly. “Just Sasha. Nobody else.”

“What if more want to come?” Linc asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “We can’t trust any of them.”

“We can trust this girl?” Franco asked.

I exchanged looks with Linc. He helped set this up, and he knew as well as I did that nobody could be trusted.

“You two take the back,” I told Franco and Alvaro, ignoring his question, which was answer enough. “We’ll go in the front.”

Franco grunted in response and moved with Alvaro shadowing him. The guys moved fast toward the house’s back yard and I waited for them to get into position.

“You got Irene in the car?” Linc asked.

I nodded. “I need someone who can talk to the girl.”

“Smart,” he said. “Dangerous though.”

“She’s safe,” I said. “She knows that if she hears gunshots and we’re not back soon, she’ll drive the hell out of here and head to the Don’s house.”

Linc peered out over the tires. “They’re ready. Let’s move.”

I darted out from behind the tires and headed to the front of the house. The windows were blocked with blinds and curtains but light bled out from between them. I heard shouts, then a loud bang, and I guessed Franco and Alvaro were shoving their way in through the back.

I went to slam my shoulder against the front door—but stopped and tried the knob first. It opened without a problem and I glanced back at Linc, grinning at him as I kicked the door open.

I stepped into a smoky living room with my gun raised. Half-dressed girls lounged with men smoking cigars on the couch. They had drinks in their hands, and porn played on TV, a big guy with massive muscles ramming into some little girl in a skirt and pigtails. “Any of you move and you’re fucking dead,” I said, walking toward the group. “Hands up right now, get them up in the air.”

The girls complied right away. The guys hesitated. One was big, round shoulders, huge gut. The other had his hair cut almost straight to the scalp and had zig-zag patterns cut along his temples.

Alvaro came from the back with two girls in front of him, both of them topless. Franco followed with his gun to a guy’s temple.

I moved closer to the couch.

“Hands up now,” I said.

“You’re in the wrong place,” the big guy said, showing teeth. “You dumb asshole.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Romance
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