ICE
“We’ll be back.You sure you’re okay?” Collins’ arms are wrapped around my waist, face buried in my chest. Not sure who needs this hug, her or me. I beat Rage, Crush, and Shadow there. Not that we needed the whole fucking cavalry, but they came anyways. As I expected, it was Vungle who attempted to take Collins away from us. It took a fuck ton of effort not to take care of her when I rolled up on my bike. Collins traded Vungle’s gun for her own, holding it on the would-be probation officer who made Crush’s life a living hell when she could have been held hostage.
“I’m fine. I’d rather be home, us cooking dinner, me in one of your tees without anything on underneath and sleeping without the sounds of people to put us asleep.” My fingers massage the base of her neck, tangling in her now loose hair. It didn’t take long for us to transfer Vungle out of Collins’ car into the van Crush drove up in. She put her gun away, handing me Vungle’s, and as much as I wanted to leave my bike and her car in the parking lot, I didn’t; instead making sure she was rock steady then having her follow us here. That’s where we are now.
“Not sure that will happen tonight, but without a doubt, it’s you and me tomorrow, away from all this, okay?” I dip my knees until we’re eye level so Collins can see how serious I am.
“Alright, go do club shit. I know I’m not supposed to drink while taking this medicine, but tonight calls for a beer.” I’d say it calls for something a lot stronger, but beer might be the safer option.
“Thinkin’ one or two ain’t gonna hurt you. Plus, it’s not like you’re drivin’. One of the women can walk you to my room, and you’ll be fine. This shouldn’t take too long.” Truth be told, as much as I want to get my licks in on the cunt, I’m thinking Crush deserves it more since Winslow was taken away from him.
“Yeah. Be safe, go do macho man stuff. We’ll be here talking shit about you guys.” Her lips graze mine, as if she’s not expecting me to take it further. Fuck that shit and the horse it rode in on. I’m taking my woman’s lips. I need her to feel alive as much as I need to feel her surrounding me. I slowly sweep my tongue, steadily, against her lips as she opens for me, nails digging into my side, pulling me closer as I taste her flavor and the mint from her gum. It isn’t until someone clears their throat that I know it’s time for me to end this.
“I love you, Pax.”
“Love you, babe. Go on inside.” She nods, stepping away from me. My eyes watch the soft sway of her hips as Collins walks away.
“Let’s get this shit over and done with. Crush is already with her, same with Shadow. If we don’t get there soon, they’ll kill her, and before that happens, I’d like to know who’s her inside man.” Rage comes up beside me after Collins makes her way inside.
“Truth. I’m not one to have ends loose.” The two of us walk until we make it to the warehouse. I can hear the screams from outside the door.
“I’d say the brothers inside are having a good ole time,” I tell Rage. He nods, and we open the door. The sight before us is one we’ve seen a few times over the years. Vungle is hanging on the meat hook in the middle of the warehouse, arms above her head wrapped in rope, her ankles the same way, still clothed because there’s a lot we’ll do to someone who fucks with one of us, but rape, that’s a whole level of low we do not mess around with.
“Get any news?” Rage asks Crush. He got his name for crushing Winslow’s windpipe. It seems that’s not what he’s doing today, judging by the brass knuckles he’s got on his hands. Shadow is watching over his son as he takes out his anger on the woman who, if given the opportunity, would have thrown his ass in jail and thrown away the key. Already out on probation for a crime that, sure, he committed, but with a justifiable cause.
“Sure do. Hate to say it, but Massimo’s crew is going to need to hear the news. Seems some mafioso boss from Sicily is attempting to stake his claim on the outskirts of town. I’m thinking Massimo’s buddy isn’t going to like that very much and could declare war, especially when he finds out that he likes girls younger than Winslow and this bitch here. And get this, the women get pregnant, they take their kids and put them up for adoption on the black market,” Shadow tells us. Vungle takes that time to let out a cry when not one fucking person is touching her.
“Fuck, this shit keeps getting’ deeper and deeper. I know Shovel is in with the Italians because of Massimo, but fuck, it seems we’re gonna owe them a favor, and with this information, we’re not gonna be able to feed this bitch to the swamp. They’ll want her, and we owe them that.” Crush walks away, a calmness around him that we’ve been lucky to see more and more as time passes.
“Not too thrilled with the fact that we can’t do that, but I get it all the same. If it means our women are safe, then that’s enough for me.” Two years ago, he’d have never said that. Shit, he wouldn’t even have been talking to Gigi, let alone thinking about others.
“Yeah, proud of you, Crush. Know it’s not easy to calm that storm brewin’ inside of you. We’ve all been dealt a shit hand at one time or another.” I nod at what Rage is saying. Shadow puts a piece of duct tape on Vungle’s mouth because the cunt just won’t shut up.
“I guess that’s part of growin’ up,” Crush responds, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it up.
“I’ll make the call. We’ll lock up here, and I’ll stick around at the club until they come,” Shadow states.
“Collins and I are staying here for the night. No sense in you and Shila not to be at your own place. Tomorrow, though, I’m taking Collins, and we’re takin’ a day off.” The nods and hums of approval let me know they’re all okay with it.
“Got no problem with that,” Rage replies.
“Besides, I think Collins will willingly leave her job.”
“Thank fuck. Sick of my baby girl bein’ miserable.” We got lucky today, no doubt about it, with Collins moving quickly, stopping the call before it alerted the police, and staying strong. The adrenaline will surely come crashing down. When it does, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.
“No shit.” We finish locking up, leaving Dorothy Vungle on the meat hook, squirming and screaming beneath the tape. None of us give a fuck, though. She’s made her bed; now it’s time she sleeps in it.