Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,10
forgetting his buckets on the dock.
“Go to North Captiva. There’s a house at the end of the island. Three stories. Blue. It’s hidden from plain sight. The dock will be empty because the owners take it back up north after season!” I call to him. “Dock it there!”
He climbs up the captain’s perch and starts the engine. Nine kills the switch on the pump after he’s sure the septic tank is empty and the truck is full. I release the ropes tying the boat to the dock. The kid smiles and waves as he backs out from the boat slip, disappearing across the Caloosahatchee River.
I help Nine wrap the hose back around the side of the truck.
We’re on the road for a few minutes before stopping at a truck stop next to the highway. I fill the gas tank even though it’s still half full while Badger, a member of the Lawless, and a trusted member of my team, jumps into the truck behind Nine. Badger’s role in all of this is for protection and because he’s the one who knows the manager of the septic company.
We get back on the road and head for the septic station where the manager is waiting for us to help separate the shit from the blow.
“What you got in here, besides shit?” Badger asks, sniffing the air and wrinkling his nose. “I mean, I know what, but how much?”
“More than you can imagine,” I answer, not fully being able to believe the amount of MDMA currently in my possession.
Badger whistles. “Fuck, Pike, you gonna be able to move all of it?”
“I sure as shit am,” I answer proudly.
“Who's the buyer?” Nine asks.
“Tino from Jacksonville,” I reply. “His supply from Columbia dried up, and he reached out because he knows I have connections in Peru, and so…here we fucking are.”
I put my life savings up for this deal, plus King and Preppy fronted the money to make it happen with the promise of a swift return with a shit-ton of interest. Pun intended. One point nine million dollars, and in less than twenty-four hours, I hope to turn it into two point eight million. After expenses, giving Badger and Nine their cut, and paying back King and Preppy, I’m going to be walking away with almost a half a million in my torn pocket.
After we wait for hours at the septic facility, I’m feeling even more confident as we load our shipment into an unmarked black van. I feel downright victorious as we drive off with a half a dozen barrels filled with neatly packaged slightly shit smelling MDMA ready for delivery to my buyer.
Apparently, I’m not meant for victory today. Because a tire blows, and the steering wheel spins out of my hands. I brace myself as we slam into the median and crash headfirst into a cement light post at the very top of the fucking causeway.
My head throbs. Blood trickles down my forehead into my eye. I wipe it away before it can blur my vision, smearing it around my eyebrow. “Everyone okay?” I ask.
Nine looks panicked but otherwise alive. “I just saw my life flash before my eyes,” he groans. “And my life sucked.”
Badger moans from the backseat. I turn around to find him laying sideways, clutching his ribs. “Yep, just banged up,” he says, hissing as he pushes back to a seated position.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here before the cops show up,” I say. “Grab the spare,” I order.I push the door open and hop out of the van to check the tire. It’s got a huge nail in it. “What the fuck,” I mutter, leaning down to inspect it further. It’s not a nail. It’s a fucking spike. A foreboding feeling wraps around me like a black fucking halo. I jump to my feet to warn Nine and Badger, but I’m too late. Several men dressed in hoodies wearing black skeleton bandanas across the lower half of their faces surround the truck, shotguns aimed.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter as I’m pushed face first against the truck.
“Don’t’ fucking move!” another man shout followed by the sound of a single shot and a wail that belongs to Badger.
“I’m going to kill each and every one of you motherfuckers,” I grate, my cheek scraping against the painted over rust of the van.
My gun is removed from the waistband of my pants and tossed over the railing. “Tell King that there’s a new King of The Causeway now, and this