Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Neil Michaelson.” Poe pulls out his phone and takes a picture of Neil’s information. “Got him. Address, birthday, social, everything.”
I grin at Paige. “What do you think? Wanna go collect some money?”
She nods. “Let's go.”
6
PAIGE
Ever since I found the money, I’ve been on the run, scared of getting caught every single day. But now that I’ve been caught, oddly enough, this is the first time in a while that I feel like I’m on a team. It’s like being in one of those movies where a group of unlikely people have to work together to do something crazy like solve a mystery or steal the crown jewels. If it wasn’t so serious, it would almost be fun.
It’s almost ten, and we're standing outside an old house on a row of identical old houses just outside the town center. The neighborhood has seen better days, but it seems quiet except for this one house. Loud techno music rattles the windows that are shut tight in spite of the warm summer weather. Neil's having a good time in there. Maybe that’s what I should’ve done. Barricaded myself somewhere and just lived it up until the bill came due.
Like it’s about to for Neil.
I can’t believe I’m about to steal back my stolen money with the help of three hot bikers who were hired to track me down.
What is my life? A few months ago I was happy to have finished my associates degree and was looking forward to finding a nice little office job and a studio apartment.
“Sounds like a party. I’m sure he won’t mind us crashing it.” Crank grins in anticipation, eager to get physical.
“Don’t get cocky. It looks like he’s just a fucking weasel that lucked out into the haul of his life, but we don’t know what we’re walking into. Stay sharp.”
Poe nods.
All three of them adjust their clothes to make their weapons more easily available. It’s a stark reminder that this might feel like a movie, but it’s not. There are no handy stunt doubles.
“Stay behind us,” Savage orders.
I nod. I’m more than happy to let them go first.
He leads the way up onto Neil’s sagging front porch. Poe carefully looks in one of the front windows. “It’s a fucking hotbox in there.”
They try the door. It’s locked.
“Should we ring the bell?” I ask.
They laugh. Savage shakes his head. “Don’t want to give anyone time to run.”
“My turn?” asks Crank, rubbing his palms together in anticipation. “I'm pretty good at knocking.”
“Like you did at my place?” I'm still a little mad about them breaking down my door, but I can't deny that Crank's tactic was effective.
“Hopefully.”
Crank takes two steps back, squares his shoulder, and charges. I expect that even if it works, it’s going to take a few tries, but if anything he overdoes it. The front door is just about as run down as the rest of the place and blasts apart at the hinges in a shower of splinters and dust as Crank barrels through like a runaway train. Without the door to muffle the noise, the music washes over us in a heavy wave, rattling my teeth in their sockets.
“Delivery!” Crank yells.
Savage uses his arm to guide me behind him as he and Poe follow through the newly made hole. I’m not sure he knows he’s doing it. He just naturally moves to put himself between me and what might be inside. It feels nice, but I stomp down the feeling and remind myself that this is still a job for them. Right now we have the same goal, but as soon as we have the money back, that might all change.
It takes a moment before I realize what Poe meant about the hotbox. There’s a small entry area before we walk into a living room thick with the sweet, pungent scent of weed. It reminds me of sketchy college parties, but dialed up past anything I’ve ever seen before. I cover my face with my arm, trying to breathe shallowly. The last thing I need is to come out of this high as a kite. Distracted, I practically run right into Savage when he stops.
Holy… Immediately I wish I could go back in time and bleach this image from my brain.
Sprawled across the lumpy mattress of a pullout couch is Neil dressed in nothing but boxers, a t-shirt, and a vacant smile. There are bills scattered all over the bed, and a naked woman tucked under each arm. In the middle of the room are two women dancing and energetically making out with each other in their underwear. Hardcore porn is playing on a big screen TV—that I bet he bought with my stolen money because the box is still in the corner.
Nowhere is safe to look. There’s skin and sex everywhere, and with only his boxers to cover things up, it’s pretty obvious that our new friend Neil is having the time of his life. The women glance over when we come in, but nobody seems to be worried about why three bikers suddenly showed up. Even with the music thumping loud enough to feel through my feet, I can still hear the wet slaps, grunts and high pitched moans coming from the TV where two insanely hung men are driving into a woman from both ends.