Authors: Fiona Flask
By Fiona Flask
Copyright 2015 Fiona Flask
Fiona Flask loves sex, and writing about sex. She's 28, with a degree in creative writing, and her dream is to travel the world. For questions, suggestions, and more, email Fiona at [email protected]
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I didn’t give a
how much he screamed. I was stomping down on the bullet wound in his foot continuously until he gave me the answers that I wanted, and not one cell in my body had any remorse, either. This bastard knew where Derrick was, and what was being done to him, and I wasn’t going to deal with any bullshit. The longer he held out, the more real the possibility that Derrick might be dead. A tear slid down my cheek at the thought, but I shoved it out of my mind because it wasn’t going to happen. I would make sure of that.
I waited until the bastard in front of me got quiet again before I asked him a third time where Derrick was.
“You want to tell me now, or should I step on your foot again?” I asked him.
He glared at me from the little corner that he’d tried to wedge himself in to get away from me, but he’d only succeeded in hiding his wounded shoulder from me so I couldn’t punch it. I guess I must have been broadcasting my feelings strongly enough for him to pick up on, though. He looked fearfully up at me, and it made me feel damn good to see some fear and grudging respect on his face. Maybe I wasn’t so bad at playing bad cop after all.
I raised my foot because he was still clamming up. Maybe another kick would loosen his tongue. I was already in mid swing when he threw his hands out in surrender, looking like he was trying to protect himself. Ah ha, here we go.
“Wait!" he cried. "Stop. I’ll talk. I don’t know very much, OK? I’m just a lackey, but I can tell you what I know.”
"So talk," I said. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and waited for his answer. If he was stalling, I wasn’t going to let him get away unscathed. He hesitated. I was starting to get impatient. I growled low in my throat and took a step towards him, trying to be as menacing as possible. His eyes grew wider and he flinched away from me. I didn’t want to show him how much that pleased me.
“You got thirty seconds," I said. "Talk or I might start connecting the dots.” He took a ragged breath and stared at the floor.
“He’s alive," he said finally. "I don’t know all of the details, but I know that they want to keep him as a bargaining chip. We’re not alone. We’re working with another MC to get the Red Angels out of power. It’s revenge for us, too. You and that club killed our trafficking ring.” His eyes widened again, almost shocked at how much he'd spilled, and he clamped his mouth shut. I let myself smile this time. It looked like he’d told me too much. Good. Now I just needed to know where they were keeping him.
“Well, looks to me like you just became
bargaining chip," I told him in a low voice. "Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you with me, and you’re going to show me where they’re keeping him. Then, you’re going to show me how to get into your club, and I’m going to take Derrick and we’re going to walk out of there. If you’re lucky, you’ll survive.” I didn’t expect him to laugh, but laugh he did, and it really got my blood boiling within seconds.
Did he think that I couldn’t do it? Well, I’d show him and everyone else that I was just as tough as any dangerous man he'd dealt with in the past. I pulled my arm back as far as it would go and let loose. The punch made a satisfying popping noise, and his jaw jerked up and to the right. He looked at me like I was crazy, slowly raising a hand up to the part of his face that was rapidly turning red. I grabbed his pistol out of the waistband of my jeans and held it up. His eyes tracked the end of the barrel like his life depended on it.
“Now, I want you to tell me exactly where this other club headquarters is,” I told him.
He remained silent, and I calmly pulled the hammer back on the pistol. I was bluffing, but seeing as I’d already shot him twice, and missed him four times, I was hoping that he would think I was crazy enough to shoot him if I didn’t get what I wanted.
“OK!" he cried. "OK, just don’t shoot. It’s down by the river, in the fishing part of town. There’s an old abandoned warehouse that belongs to the club. It doesn’t look like much, but the HQ is underground.”
I must have raised my eyebrow without realizing it, because he panicked.
“I know that it sounds like something from a movie, but it’s true!" he said. "The headquarters is underground! I can take you there and show you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him as far as I could throw him. I got him to give me the address of the warehouse, then I acted like I was going to turn away from him and let him go. Instead, I hauled back and punched him in the side of the head, narrowly missing his temple. He crumpled to the ground and I ran lightly down the stairs to the little shed that Derrick had in the back yard. He kept a few lengths of rope in there, and that was what I was looking for. I was going to tie him up and take him with me, but I wanted to make sure that no one could see that something wasn’t exactly right…
I had to wrestle with the door a little because the hinges had rusted in the last storm we’d seen, but my nerves gave me the extra strength that I needed. Almost immediately, I found the rope, and I yanked it off the hook, knocking the hook to the ground in my rush. I wanted to make sure that I got him trussed up like a Christmas goose before he got the chance to come to and run out of the house. When I crested the top of the stairs, I pulled the gun out just to be safe. It was a good deterrent if he was coming to. I peeked into the room, and he was just where I’d left him, still drooling on the carpet.
The first threat was his hands, if I left them untied he could fight me and push himself up to his feet in order to run. That wasn’t going to happen. I made sure that it was tight. I tried to lift him, but he was too heavy.
I wanted to rush to Derrick’s rescue, but I had to wait for him to come to. I wasn’t exactly a very patient woman, never had been, and I damn sure wasn’t going to start now. I sat on the bed, legs crossed, foot jiggling for about ten minutes before I went downstairs to the closet and got out the mop bucket. I filled it up with ice cold water and carefully carried it up the stairs. I was trying to be as quiet as possible, because if he had already come to, I didn't want him to startle me when I walked in, spilling the frigid water on myself. I listened as hard as I could, trying to imagine pricking my ears forward like a dog to hear better. Nothing but silence ensued. Good. That meant he was probably still out and I had a good chance of using this bucket that I’d lugged all the way up the stairs. I didn’t like doing things for no reason…
I peeked around the corner of the door, and saw he was still laying where I’d left him. I tiptoed over as silently as I could, tipped the bucket over and leaped backwards to avoid getting wet when he sputtered to his feet. He didn’t wake up quietly. He yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to push himself up into a sitting position, but it was impossible with the way I’d tied his hands behind his back. When he’d finally calmed down and looked around for me, I smiled at him and gave him a little wave.
“Good morning," I said cheerfully. "It seems that I might have hit you a little harder than I thought, and you've really been keeping me waiting. Now that you’re awake, though, I’m going to need you to walk when I help you up. Are we agreed?”
He wouldn’t say anything for a few long minutes, and I thought that I was going to have to pull the gun out again to get his cooperation, but he finally sighed and nodded. He probably thought that if he took me to the headquarters, he might be able to get someone to rescue him or he could slip away somehow because he knew the building better than I did. Well, I wasn’t going to make it
easy for him.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
OK, communication was a start. I didn’t even have to threaten him this time. If he thought he was lulling me into a false sense of security, he had another thing coming. I’d seen enough movies to know that wasn’t how it worked.
“I’m going to help you get up, and then you’re going to walk in front of me," I said. "I need you to go places, and I don’t feel like touching you much. I don’t know where you’ve been.” I could see that the insult pissed him off, but oh well.
He glared at me like he was waiting for me to move closer and help him get up. I got up quickly and held out an arm to him. He looped his tied hands over my arm and I pulled up for all I was worth, letting him get to his feet without stumbling. He was a lot heavier than I thought. When he was on his feet, I shoved him forward. It wasn’t very hard, but it was enough for him to have to catch himself.
He turned around and glared at me, almost walking into the door frame, which made me chuckle. He turned around quickly to make sure he could see where he was going, and I made sure that I caught up to him in case he decided that his next attempt at getting away was to just flat out run. If he wanted to do that, then I had a heavy knickknack in my hand from the bedroom that I could throw like a baseball and knock him over.
He didn’t try anything fishy, though, and before long we were standing outside of Derrick’s car. I had him stand next to me while I unlocked the trunk. He looked from it to me, realization and horror dawning on his face.
“You don’t really expect me to get in there, do you?” he asked.
I didn’t know if it was a rhetorical question or if he was expecting me to actually answer him. I opened the trunk and took a step back.
“Go ahead and climb in," I said. "I really don’t want to knock you over the head with this, but I will if I have to.” I casually opened my hand and showed him the heavy golden carved egg that I’d bought a few months ago.
It weighed about a pound and a half, but I could still throw it pretty far. His eyes widened in surprise, and I thought that I might have seen a little fear in his eyes, too. I did my best not to smile with satisfaction. He glared at me, then looked at the trunk.
He sighed heavily and put a foot in. I waited until he got comfortable, then pulled the other piece of rope out from behind my back. He looked at me askance, but I didn’t say anything, I just went to work tying up his feet.
When he was trussed up like a Christmas goose, I gave him a once over and slammed the lid closed. He’d already told me where it was that I needed to go, and the main reason that I wanted him to come with me, was because I was going to use him as a bargaining chip if I got in any kind of trouble.
I got behind the wheel and took a deep breath.
“I’m coming, Derrick," I said aloud. "Just hold on, sweetheart, I’m coming.”
I threw the car in reverse, and braced myself for whatever was coming my way next.
I found the warehouse and parked about a block away from it. It was instantly clear that this was no abandoned warehouse. There was a line of fencing that surrounded it, complete with concertina wire winding around the top of it. Clear red flag. No one put protective measures around an empty warehouse that wasn’t hiding or protecting something.
The guy had told me about a tear in the fence towards the back of the warehouse where the lower grunts would sometimes smuggle in some women for private entertainment unbeknownst to the higher ups. That was how I was getting in, but I had no idea if I’d be able to use the same way out. I had no idea what kind of shape Derrick was going to be in when I found him.
I reloaded the gun, and found another pistol under the driver’s seat of Derrick’s car, so I felt like I was going in as well armed as I could be. The guy, I decided to leave in the trunk. I couldn’t afford any complications or extra, unpredictable problems that might come up if he tried to make trouble for me. I’d gotten the layout of the place from him, so I had a rough idea of where I was going, and where Derrick was being held.
I hoped we'd both make it out alive.
There was nothing for it, I had to go. Supposedly there weren't many people in the building during the day -- maybe two or three, the guy told me -- and since the raid might still be going on, it could be less than even that. I had to gather my courage and go in whether I was ready or not.
I made it to the fence, then I pulled the gun out of the waistband of my jeans and got down on my hands and knees. I scooted myself forward until I was all the way through the hole. At one point, my belt got hooked on the bottom of the fence, and I had a minor heart attack, thinking that I wasn’t going to make it through the gap, and that was going to be the end of my rescue mission.