Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 155775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Guilt filled him as he ran out the door with Ralen to his truck. He’d promised Addie he’d be here for her.
But Ortega was his friend. Not only that, he was the half-brother of his boss. And Dante wouldn’t be pleased if they ignored Ortega.
Nothing good happened when Dante was displeased.
This was why it was so hard to have a relationship when you’d signed your life over. Because the ‘job’ would always come first.
Not that she was his woman.
So why did he still feel so guilty?
He drove away from the house. “Where is he? Ortega?”
“Bismarck,” Ralen said.
“Bismarck? Wait, North Dakota?” Cash asked. “What the fuck is he doing there?”
That wasn’t anywhere close to Chicago. Although at least it would only take five hours instead of seventeen to get there.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. He just said he needs our help and to let him know when we get there.”
Great.
When they stopped to get something to eat, he quickly sent a message to Addie, letting her know that he’d had to leave.
And that he’d hopefully be back soon.
God. He hoped she stayed safe.
Cash followed Ortega’s directions to what looked like an old storage warehouse along the river. It was just down from the petroleum refinery. It was now after ten in the morning and still the place looked creepy as fuck.
As they stepped into the dark warehouse and looked around, he felt a chill run up his back. This place had a weird feel. It was freezing cold and creaked in the wind as though warning them to turn around. The scent of piss, mold, and blood hit his nose.
Fresh blood.
Fuck. What the hell was Ortega up to? They hadn’t contacted Dante yet. They wanted to speak to Ortega first.
“Ahh, the two of you took your time,” Ortega said, walking toward them and wiping his hands on a rag.
“We drove as fast as we could,” Cash replied, feeling irritated. “What’s going on? Why can I smell blood?”
“Shit. What have you done?” Ralen asked.
Ortega sighed. “Come with me and I’ll just show you.”
They followed him to a hole in the floor. Why did he always end up in dark, creepy warehouses?
They followed Ortega into the basement area which was actually made of cinder block.
A good thing too, since it seemed it had become a torture chamber. The blocks would muffle the screams of the poor bastards tied up and lying on the floor.
“What the fuck?” Ralen asked. “Who the fuck are these guys?”
“My girl’s enemies.”
Cash gaped at him. “Did you just say your girl’s enemies?”
“Yes. I did. The pair of you seem shocked. You didn’t think I’d take out the enemies of my girl?”
“We didn’t know you had a girl to start with,” Ralen said. “So no, we didn’t realize that you were running around murdering her fucking enemies.”
“They’re not dead yet. Well, not all of them.” Ortega walked over and kicked one of the men on the floor, who groaned.
“Since when have you had a girlfriend?” Cash asked.
“Oh, about ten days. She doesn’t know she’s my girlfriend yet, though. We’re working that through. She’s being a bit . . . resistant. These guys are like courting gifts.”
A bunch of dead bodies were courting gifts? There were times that Cash thought he couldn’t be shocked. And then something else happened.
“You kidnapped all of these people so that this girl would want to go out with you?” Ralen clarified.
“Yes. And because they’re evil bastards who deserve to die. They’re not good people. Each of them has hurt my girl in some way. There are also women who have hurt her but I’ll have to do something else to them since I don’t murder women.”
Right. Cool. Shit.
“And you want our help getting rid of the bodies?” Cash asked.
“You got it. I thought about the river, but there are too many bodies. It’s risky. I did find a pig farmer nearby, but one body would be okay, two would be pushing it. Then I thought of the petroleum refinery.”
What did the petroleum . . . oh fuck.
“Acid?” Ralen asked, sounding slightly ill.
Ortega nodded. “Acid.”
“We can’t break into a petroleum refinery to get fucking acid,” Cash said. “It probably has tight security.”
“We’re not going into the refinery,” Ortega said. “They’re due a delivery around four and we’re going to lighten their load. That’s why I need your help. I’ve got a few things to put into place.”
Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
The last thing that Cash thought he’d be doing was stealing fucking acid from a petroleum refinery.
But here he was.
Ortega handled the trickier parts, like paying off security to look the other way as they helped themselves to a vat of fucking acid. That had to be carried back to the warehouse and down to the basement.
That was his and Ralen’s job.
He set down the acid and stepped back, breathing heavily. Not because of the effort it had taken to get the acid down here. More from adrenaline and fear.