Crank's Rescue (Hell Raiders MC Book 6), page 7
"Oh. Is he an FBI agent?"
My inward laugh came out as a little cough. Crank might not like the impression I gave of him. "Something like that. He and his associates know what they're doing. They do this kind of thing all the time." I crossed my fingers to keep the lies from counting.
Mom sighed, and a little thrill of triumph shot through me. She was going to give it up. "Honey, you know I have to tell your Dad. He knows people. He can get it all looked into and settled."
"No!" Dread broke a cold sweat over my body. "You can't do that, Mom. Or rather, Dad can't. You can't do anything that might jeopardize our case. Too much risk and too much work have already gone into it. If Dad starts asking around, Sennit will pick up on it."
"Well, honey, I can't help it. You're obviously in over your head. Dad can help."
Anger, unlike any I ever felt before, overcame me. All my life, every time they thought I was 'in over my head', Dad came rushing to the rescue. It had to stop. "Mother, listen to me." I never spoke to her that way, but it was too late to take it back.
"Young la—"
"No. Listen, Mom." The indignation in her tone nearly stopped me, but fear forced the words out. "If you interfere, if Dad interferes, in any way, you will be putting me, and other people, in danger. I can't live with that. I know you want to help, but I have to handle this on my own. The best way to help is by keeping yourselves safe, and staying away until I get this taken care of."
"Now don't be angry, honey. You know we just want to help." The placating note in her voice failed to lure me in. She signed. "Honey, just promise me you'll be careful. Do what the FBI agent says, and stay safe."
"Mom, I know you want to help, but this isn't a playground spat, it's my responsibility, part of my job, and I'm taking care of it. Please trust me." Tears stung my eyes. The most rebellious thing I'd ever done in my life was choosing to go into social work. My parents tried to make me change my mind, but I held firm. I finished my degree, and made one small concession by accepting a position in my hometown. Telling my mother to let me handle this came in at a close second on the Channing Rebel Scale.
"Okay, honey. I trust you. We'll stay out of town until you put the son-of-a-bitch in jail." Was that pride in her voice?
"Thank you, Mom—" A low sound out in the hallway interrupted my train of thought. "I have to go now, but I'll call you soon. Love you, and tell Dad I love him, too." I ended the call and shoved the phone in my pocket while rummaging through my purse for the gun Crank gave me.
Blood thundered in my ears, but the unmistakable sound of careful footsteps continued. The gun felt cold and heavy in my hand, but I held it the way Crank showed me. Were you supposed to pull something to make it ready to work? All the TV shows I'd seen involving guns said yes, but Crank had said all I had to do was point and pull the trigger. Maybe there were different kinds of guns? I decided to follow Crank's directions, and hope he knew what he was talking about.
My bare feet made no sound on the polished wood floor as I hurried to the door and put my back to the wall just beside it. The doorknob rattled a tiny bit, and if I hadn't already been paying attention, I would have missed it. Something shifted on the other side of the heavy wood door, and the faintest scrape of metal on metal reached my ears. The wall felt good and solid at my back, and I waited, reminding myself to breathe.
The glass doorknob turned silently, and I clutched the gun closer, and pressed my shoulders harder against the wall. The door swung slowly inward and I waited behind it, my breath frozen in my lungs. What if Sennit had found me? He would be furious that I'd asked for help.
The floor creaked a little as a tall muscular man stepped into the room. Something over by the window seemed to catch his attention as he closed the door softly. Startlingly black hair hung straight to his shoulders, concealing his features from me.
I forced myself to swallow my fear. That would only get me killed, or worse. The gun felt even heavier in my grip as I raised my arm and pointed it at the man. It shook, so I used my other hand to steady my wrist. The man took another cautious step, still intent on something by the window.
"Don't move!" I put every bit of false bravado I possessed into those words. "I have a gun, and I'll use it."
The man froze and lifted his hands away from his sides.
"Who are you? Who sent you?" Did my voice really sound that small and terrified? My whole body throbbed with the force of my heartbeat.
He shook his head, but stayed where he was.
I tried a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs and praying for courage. Crank. I needed to get Crank. The gun wavered as I let go with my other hand and dug my phone out.
"Yeah." Crank answered on the first ring.
Relief rushed through me, turning my bones to jelly. "Oh my God, there's a man. He broke in—"
"Fuck! Who is he?" The command in Crank's voice helped me get hold of myself a little.
"I don't know, he won't say. I'm making him stand still and I have the gun."
"Mother fucker. Okay, you stay out of reach, keep that gun pointed at him, and I'll be there in a minute." He ended the call, leaving me to panic.
The big man started to turn, slowly. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you."
"Right, you just broke into my room just because. Don't move." I steadied my gun hand again, careful to keep the weapon pointed at his chest. The man glared, but kept his hands up and stood still. "Who are you?"
He shrugged and grinned. "Don't matter. You gonna get your ol' man killed, waving that thing around." He nodded to indicate the gun. "Better just put it away right now."
Well, he couldn't very well kill Crank while I held a loaded gun pointed at his chest, could he? I smiled. "I'll take my chances. Who sent you?"
He sighed. The man actually sighed, as if he were bored. "We both know you won't pull that trigger. Just put it down."
The words shook me a little. Would I? If it came down to my life, I didn't know. But if Crank were in danger, I had no doubt. I would blow that man away. "You're wrong. Who sent you?"
He smiled. "Whatever." In a flash of movement too fast for me to follow, he jumped at me and wrenched the gun out of my hand. Sharp pain slashed through the tip of my finger as a nail broke.
I struggled against his grip, but he held me immobile, one arm around my waist, my hands both trapped over my head in his other hand.
Crank
Tires screeched as I ignored traffic and pulled a tight U-turn. The big SUV surged ahead when I stomped the gas pedal, and quickly pulled away from the blare of horns. Sarah's panic on the phone had me swerving through traffic with no regard for law or safety. If something happened to her, nothing else mattered.
Who the fuck could have broken into the room? And why? Sennit? One of his cronies? One of Fergus' men? Or someone from a totally different direction?
If the fucker hurt Sarah, he would wish for Hell Fire before I finished with him. The depth of my anger might have shocked me if I took the time to examine it. But right now, the only thing that mattered was how it pounded through my veins and drove me to get to Sarah, no matter what.
Finally, I skidded the SUV into the lane of the Bed and Breakfast, and nearly took out the porch rail with a sliding stop. The .45 comforted me a little as I pulled it out of my belt, ready to destroy any threat that popped onto my radar. The SUV's engine ticked as it began to cool, annoying me. I should have come in quiet, but it was a little late for stealth now, so I didn't bother.
The main rooms on the lower floor held no one. For a second, I wondered about Chancey. I'd hate for her to get hurt in this mess. Every damn stair tread creaked under my boots, so it was a good thing I didn't give a shit about being quiet. Whoever broke into that room on Sarah had to know I was coming, and he had to be ready for me. Fuck it. Didn't matter.
I topped the stairs with enough presence of mind to take a quick look around for threats, right before I planted my foot next to that pretty glass doorknob, and busted the lock to pieces. The door flew back and hit the wall behind it, hard, then rebounded toward me, but I caught it on my shoulder and pushed through. The bastard stood between Sarah and me, blocking my view, so I had no idea if she were okay or not.
He turned to face me, and grinned. "I was starting to think you left your woman to handle me on her own." He held Sarah pinned against his chest, practically immobile.
The fear in her face nearly broke me. No risk was too much to guarantee her safety. Now who the fuck was this bastard? "What do you want?" I kept my gun barrel centered on his head and eased sideways, desperate to at least touch Sarah.
He kept his arms around her, clearly aware of the .45 zeroed in on his head. "Just some words, man. Nothing more."
Where the fuck was her gun? "Let her go. She has nothing to do with this." My molars threatened to crack with the pressure of clenching my jaw.
He gave a slow nod, then loosened his arms. "Okay. I just want to talk."
Sarah jerked away from him and ran to me. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and keep her safe forever, but I had to settle for pulling her against me with one arm, while I kept my gun on the intruder with the other. "You're okay. I got you now."
She nodded against my chest, no tears, or sobs, or anything like that. Pride surged through me. My ol' lady had some fucking balls. "He didn't hurt me."
I let Sarah go long enough for a quick pat-down, which turned up a 9mm and a knife. "You got a funny way of asking for a parlay." I studied his face, trying to remember if I'd ever met him, and came up blank, though he did seem slightly familiar. "How about you start with who the fuck you are?" I kicked the door closed behind me and went on into the room, skirting around the intruder.
"They call me Runner. Fergus tells me you want to send one of our women into the state system to help you catch a low life." The guy shrugged and looked very uncomfortable. "I want in."
"What do mean, you fucking want in? You're not a chick that could pass for fifteen. Sorry to break that news to you, man."
"Okay if I sit?" He tilted his head toward the pair of easy chairs in front of the fireplace.
"Go ahead. But don't fucking waste my time here. I got shit to take care of." If this idiot knew how to ask to talk like a man, instead of dragging a woman into it, I would already be questioning the fucker Fergus' men caught.
He sat, leaning forward, elbows on knees. "Look, man, this…You can't tell a fucking soul what I say here. Yeah?"
One look at the misery in his face convinced me. "Yeah. It goes fucking nowhere, man. Now, what's up?"
He dropped his head into his hands for a second, then straightened. "Okay, so my mom was white, you know? I lived with her 'til she got busted for trafficking when I was eleven years old. They didn't have no way to contact any other family, so I went into the system." He paused to run his hands over his face.
I raised a hand to keep him quiet for a second. "Hey, Sarah, you think that chick would have something cold to drink downstairs? I could sure as fuck use a beer." If anything this guy had to say even remotely resembled what I feared it did, I didn't want her to have to hear it.
Her eyes went wide for a second, then she nodded, hopefully catching my hint. "I'll go see."
The door closed behind her and I turned back to Runner. "Okay, man, go ahead."
"Thanks, man. This shit ain't easy. So, I went into the system. The first home I got was good. The people took care of us, you know? But after a while, the caseworker said I had to move. New place was bad, and I acted up. When I got in trouble, another caseworker said if I wanted to go back to the good place, I had to do what he say. I didn't have no idea what he meant, man." He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
The sick feeling that started in my gut the minute he started talking kept getting worse. "You remember this caseworker's name?"
"Jared Sennit. He was brand new at the job, and he did everything his boss told him to. Fucker named Mark Carson."
I listened while he told me all of it. How this bastard got him moved to a better home, but Sennit picked him up from school once a week and took him to a hotel. Every week, a different man waited at the hotel to rape him. By the time he got to that part, I really fucking needed that beer.
"My dad finally tracked me down, got me the fuck up out of there. He put Carson down, but the chance to get Sennit never came. You're going after him, and I want in."
"A'ight, man. As long as Fergus gives the go-ahead, you're in. And don't forget, I'm calling the shots." I waited for his nod of acknowledgement. "Let's go see if my ol' lady found that beer." The rage coiling in my gut demanded action, but for now, I had to wait.
Runner confirmed my suspicion that Sennit shared his victims with other sick fucks. Not only that, but he fucking turned them out, and it looked like kids, boys or girls, of just about any age, suited him just fine. The only thing worse than a pedophile, in my opinion, was the one that served the kids up to be raped. That right there took a special kind of slime, and Sennit ticked off the checkboxes. Fucker needed to die.
The doorway into the kitchen downstairs revealed Sarah and Chancey talking by a big butcher block table, with several bottles between them. Sarah looked up with a big smile. "There you are. I asked Chancey about beer, and she was just filling me in on the local brewery."
Chancey gave her infectious grin. "My sister and her husband are the owners, so I have more beer around than any pregnant woman should." She went on to show us the bottles.
Personally, I'd have been happier with a plain old beer. Instead I got a fancy bottle of craft beer that tasted more like piss.
After the first taste, Runner stalked past me and poured his beer down the drain. "Must be a bad run. That shit is awful."
Chancey giggled, one hand over her mouth, the other resting on her big belly. "I thought it was just me. Everybody talks about how good it is, how different, and act like a bunch of snooty wine experts. I think dirty dishwater would be better."
Mine went down the drain, too, even though Sarah shot a frown my way. "You're too damn nice."
No actual drinkable beer showed up, so I suggested to Runner we should go on about our business, and leave the ladies to chat. I pulled Sarah aside for a quiet word. "I'll be back in a couple hours. I'll fill you in on what that was all about when I get back." The way her body yielded into mine as I drew her close for a kiss ensured I wouldn't stay gone one second longer than necessary. Turning to go, I lifted a hand to Chancey, and caught her fanning her flushed face. "Chancey? You okay?"
Her fair skin flared brighter. "Oh yeah, fine. Just suddenly a little warm in here. You two could make a living as a furnace."
Unable to smother my grin, I headed for the truck, glad to hear Sarah's laughter behind me. Runner already waited in the passenger seat. Odd. I'd have figured he'd have his own wheels. "What you do, walk all the way out here, man?" I cranked the ignition and the big engine turned over.
"No, my ride hauled ass back home. By now, she standing in the barn munching on some grain." The sideways look he sent my way seemed like an attempt to see if I took him seriously.
"Don't tell me you rode over here on some swayback mule, man. I'd lose all respect."
The gauging look turned to a grin. "Have Mercy is the finest damn quarterhorse in the county. She'd kick my ass for letting somebody call her a mule, or swayback."
In other words, our intruder made sure he left behind nothing that could be tied to a name and residence. Fucker probably didn't have a scrap of paper on him, either. These days, with digital fingerprint and facial recognition technology, those precautions didn't mean a whole lot, but they still showed awareness and commitment.
It didn't make much sense to bother with taking a roundabout way back to the bakery to talk to the fucker Fergus' scouts picked up, considering I had one of his boys sitting right next to me. The drive only took a few minutes without the worry of being tailed, and we pulled in at the front of the bakery. Place didn't seem to have much traffic at the moment, so I parked in the same space as before.
One of Fergus' men met us just inside, before I had to ask the girl at the counter. "Come on back, Crank. Some of the boys been keeping your guest all comfortable." He nodded to Runner. "Good to see you, boy. Figured you'd hear about this and want in."
We followed the man back through the labyrinth of bakery supplies. Fergus and his boys had a guy sitting on top of the table. I assumed this was whoever they caught poking around the hotel where I met Sarah. The fucker looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Runner went forward. "Dad." He offered a hand to Fergus.
Well, hell. No wonder Fergus was willing to put his people at risk for a problem that really had nothing to do with him. Since it seemed like one of Sennit's victims was Fergus' kid, I had no fucking doubt he wanted Sennit's blood. I sure as fuck would, if I were in his place.
"Crank." Fergus lifted his chin in my direction. "I see my boy found you."
"He did, just as I was headed out this way." Not a good idea to mention the exact circumstances, I figured. It wouldn't do anyone any good to make Runner look less of a man to his dad. Especially not me.
Runner grinned. "His old lady got the drop on me at first."
Fergus laughed. "I knew that pretty white lady had some steel in her backbone." A few minutes spent teasing Runner led to my introduction to the guy on the table. "Crank, this boy calls himself Jesse James. I guess he figured that name gives him the right to be an outlaw. He should have played cowboys and Indians a little more."
I turned my full attention to the bastard Fergus' scouts caught. "Mr. James, I know these boys been real nice and entertaining, but I ain't got time to fuck around with your stupid self. You tell me what I want to know, first time I ask, or I hurt you. Last feller pissed me off good had a nice home-cooked supper of his own balls. You don't want that shit to happen to you."
The fucker on the table wasn't alone in turning green. "What did you wanna know?"
"How about you start with Sennit raping kids?" Half an hour later, I had everything he knew about Sennit and his operation.
