Clint was so busy eye-balling my legs hanging from under Aaron’s shirt that it took him a moment to reach for his plate of food. I stacked the other two plates and the glasses of lemonade on a serving tray and walked out as Clint followed. What I would do for a box of rat poison right now.
There was no need for me to glance back to know that Clint’s creepy eyes were glued to my ass.
Once everyone had a plate, I sat in Aaron’s chocolate-brown recliner as instructed and proceeded to fold myself into a tight ball, pulling Aaron’s shirt until it stretched over my thighs and hid my overexposed legs.
Clint and Cold Sore sat on the beige leather couch, and longest-beard sat on the light brown leather loveseat that was adjacent to my chair.
Forks scraping plates and loud lip-smacks were the only sounds that filled the living room. If I had leverage over these dirty-dick-buzzards, this would be the last meal they’d ever eat. Cold Sore chewed using his front teeth as his mouth worked aggressively. His back teeth had likely been knocked out or had rotted out.
It was now 5:35 p.m. Aaron should have been pulling up by now, but I didn’t hear his truck. Out of all the days he could have been late, he’d picked today.
I didn’t wait to be told. I stood and collected the empty dishes, and this time, Cold Sore followed me into the kitchen. He glared at me with lust-heavy eyes as I placed the dishes into the sink.
When he walked up to me and thrust his dirty pelvis against my ass, I cringed and ground my top teeth into the bottom ones. This was nothing like when Aaron had done this to me. All I wanted to do now was stick a long-handle fork in this asshole’s eye and bath in a tub of lye to get his asshole-smelling stench off me.
The answer as to why I hadn’t heard Aaron’s truck came in the form of his approaching black boots that crept across the kitchen floor as silent as night. Cold Sore was too busy fantasying about what he was going to do to me to notice what had captured my attention and put a sinister smile on my lips.
When I’d greeted the men on the porch, I’d spotted a dark-colored vehicle that they’d attempted to hide in the woods, but they hadn’t hidden it well enough, and Aaron must have spotted the vehicle on the outskirts of his property and sneaked in through the back way.
The metallic click of Aaron’s gun against the temple of Cold Sore froze him as his breath hitched. His stiff dick, however, continued to press into my right ass cheek.
Aaron’s voice was low, but the deadly intent that spewed from it was loud and alarmingly clear.
“Back away from her before I blow your brains all over this fucking kitchen.”
Cold Sore’s hands went up as he eased back. “Aa…”
Before he could get a word out, Aaron struck him in the head with the butt of the gun. The angry crack of the gun upside his head was so loud it sounded like it had broken through bone. Blood sprayed against my back, and some small splatters reached as far as the white blinds before me.
Cold Sore’s body hit the floor with a loud thud, but he wasn’t out. The hit was impactful enough that his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his lids fluttered like wings as he struggled to sit back up.
Next, Aaron’s heavy boot went upside his head. Thump!
“Everything all right in there?” one of Cold Sore’s dirty buddies shouted from the living room.
Aaron placed a finger to his lips, telling me to stay quiet as approaching footsteps grew closer to the kitchen door.
When Clint stepped into the kitchen and saw Aaron, he immediately drew his gun. He and Aaron were in a standoff, aiming their weapons at each other’s heads.
“Chuck! We’ve got company. Get in here now!”
This wasn’t going to go well. If only I’d been able to get one of those guns. Aaron was out-numbered, even with one of them, knocked out on the floor.
Chuck sprung the door open with his weapon drawn. Since Clint now had backup, he was bold enough to take a few steps past the center island, closer to Aaron and me. He stood next to the refrigerator with his back to the backdoor, blocking the exit. Chuck was blocking the exit to the living room. We could have jumped over Cold Sore’s body and made a run for the back stairs, but it would have likely guaranteed both of us a bullet in the back.
“Aaron, you’re outnumbered,” Clint stated the obvious.
“What did you do to Dutch?” Clint asked as he glanced over the edge of the table at his fallen buddy laid out at mine and Aaron’s feet.
Clint and Aaron kept their standoff going. Their weapons never wavered from each other’s heads. I stood in silence, hidden by Aaron’s body, wondering if this was my last day on earth. My already tense body started to shiver when Chuck shuffled on the other side of the kitchen island and transferred his aim away from Aaron’s head to aim it at mine. My heart hammered against my chest cavity, adrenaline lighting my body with an inferno of fear.
“Drop your gun, Aaron, or I’m going to blow this sexy little maid’s brains all over that counter.”
Aaron refused to drop his gun away from Clint’s head. His voice dripped with pure venom. He didn’t sound like the man I’d been living with for nearly two weeks. This was that intensely scary part of Aaron that peeked out at me from time to time, reminding me that he was every bit as dangerous as I thought he was.
“And you are going to watch me, for a second time, kill another one of your sons.”
A second time?For a moment, I forgot a weapon was aimed at my head. Aaron had killed one of Chuck’s sons? So, they weren’t here for money or drugs or even guns. They wanted good old-fashioned revenge.