place her. I don’t have long to ponder because my other neighbor, the wife, comes from the side, her gaze focused on me in a scarily intense way. I take another step toward my property. I should scream now. Call for help or fire or tell someone to throw me a fucking gun, but they’re too close to me and my house is too far and loud. No one would hear me. My cell phone is sitting next to my glass of bourbon next to my goddamn sunning chair. I make a run for it, but the women catch me almost immediately. These fucking shoes aren’t just cheap and ugly, they are dangerous.
“What do you want from me?” I yell. They each have me by the arms and their grips are like vices. You know how in moments of importance you can put on a sober face and feel fine, when you’re actually drunk off your ass? This isn’t one of those times. My vision is whirring and my head is lighter than a kite in summer. Through the bourbon haze, my mind is flicking through images of women I know. Is this woman a client? Someone met in passing? I don’t get the friend vibe when I look at her. I must not like her for one reason or another. The darkness of night doesn’t do me any favors either. It’s hard to see her true features.
The man speaks to someone on the phone. His voice is low and measured. His conversation is quick and matter-of-fact. He snaps the old school flip phone closed. It’s a burn phone. He’s going to toss it when his job is done. My stomach sinks as I understand what exactly is happening right now. It’s not my fucking crazy neighbors trying to rob me, it’s way more sinister than that.
He clears his throat. “It’s up to you. Easy or hard.” I can fight like a cat in a mesh bag, or I can hope that my pliancy gains me a favor. I pull away from the women and they let me go.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” I say, my voice pleading. Dax. Oh my God. I spent all of our time together trying to keep him from my past and it’s going to rear its ugly head and destroy our wedding. What can I do to fix this? How can I buy some more time? “Please,” I ask, because it’s the only thing I can think of at the moment. Please save me. Please don’t hurt Dax. Just please leave me alone.
The girl who I can’t place gets right in my face. “I can’t believe you’re going through with it. Think of this as us doing you a favor.” They know too much about me. They’ve seen too much. How long have they been trailing me before they moved into Morganna’s old house? Gaining information? My schedule, my hobbies, my friends and clients. My intel guys said they were around these days, that I should watch my six, but never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed they’d be so permanently around here. The woman snickers. She sounds young.
It hits me all at once staring at her big eyes. “Cody,” I whisper. This is the woman…girl, Cody was out on a date with at the café in NYC. The expensive bourbon wants to come back up. I won’t let it.
“Name’s Rosy,” she says. “You’re an idiot for not staying with Cody. His dick tastes like candy dipped in cocaine. I’m addicted.” I planned to go easy, but then she opened her mouth. I uppercut her so hard that I hear her jaw crack, and her teeth click together. Maybe I even chipped one. Rosy stumbles backward, but doesn’t fall. It was my last bit of freedom before I’m met with fifty thousand volts of electricity. Helplessly, I watch as he puts his Taser in the back pocket of his slacks. Shaking his head, he scoops me up like a baby and carries me to his fucking boat that’s bobbing against the dock. It’s primed and ready for a midnight sail.
I walked right into a trap, unarmed and completely drunk. My only hope is that I broke a bone, even a small one, in that bitch’s face. I can see the lights shining from my house like a lighthouse. I’m not headed toward it, I’m motoring away from it into the inky, dark water I used to take solace in.
If I wasn’t one hundred