“Zoe, now is not the time for this. We have a job to do.” Max states from behind me.
“No, he is always in a bad mood. But especially when I’m around. What did I do?” I keep my eyes locked with Deans.
Dean's jaw ticks, as he squeezes and releases his fists. I know his type. He won’t say what’s bothering him, he can’t. There is a mental block preventing him from letting him explain what is going on in that head of his. I give him a knowing look, but then I match my glare with his.
“Fine. We won’t talk here. We’ll work it out on the mat,” I decide.
“On the mat?” He grumbles.
“Yep,” I pop the ‘p’, “We’ll fight it out.”
He only scoffs but walks past me, shoulder checking me on his way to the warehouse door.
The other three shake their heads as if I’ve gone crazy. I’m not sure why they find it unbelievable; they’ve seen me fight, they’ve seen my victims. They know I can handle myself.
We enter the building in a single file. Dean is first, always the one to enter first it seems. But I’ve noticed he is a protector, the martyr for the group.
Brandon follows behind Dean, ready for a fight and way too cocky for his own good. He has that bat again; the same one I used against him just days ago.
Just days ago. It feels like months.
Then it’s Max. When Max enters, the building falls silent. This has always confused me. People are so afraid of Max, but he has never really done anything; nothing I’m aware of at least. Sure, he has a powerful aura that leaks from him, is in charge of every room he enters, and his intensity is palpable. But he isn’t known for hurting people, is he?
I follow behind Max. A lot of confused glances roam over me, but nobody lets their eyes linger for too long. Teddy is following behind me. Close but not touching. I know the curious eyes leave me because of whatever Teddy is doing behind me. Something tells me he has these warehouse men quaking.
“Boss, we didn’t know you’d be stopping by today.” A little man in glasses approached us. He looks nervous, but not in a sketchy way. He’s short and a little thin. He has wide rimmed coke bottle glasses and sandy brown hair. He has to be in his early thirties but doesn’t look like the type of man you’d find working in an operation like this.
“Mark, we wanted to stop by to see how things were running. Heard about a little leak that was taken care of. I wanted to make sure nothing else was going wrong.” Max says, as he shakes Mark’s hand.
Mark gives him a single nod and turns towards the warehouse personnel. Immediately I notice that this is one of their drug packaging and shipping warehouses. I see massive stacks of bricked cocaine and marijuana, I notice the harder stuff is blocked off with a separate group of personnel in a marked off section.
Nobody is working, everyone is standing at attention as if they are waiting to be called on.
“Good morning, everyone,” Max starts, “We have had a bit of security issues recently. Is there anyone who has any information on that?” His tone is showing a false sense of safety. To the room it may come off genuine, but I can hear the venom laced in his words.
Nobody answers, as expected. But I keep my eyes on a younger man at a packaging table. Late twenties, brunette, olive skin, and a thin mustache. His body is relaxed, but his dark brown eyes are shifty. I watch how he watches Max and Dean; it’s like he’s trying to study an opponent, weighing out the odds.
Max nods along to the silence and starts to roll up his sleeves. “Okay, I need all the men that worked directly with Jax in the last three months to line up at the front for me,” he calls. When nobody moves, Teddy takes a step forward. This gets them all moving.
Twelve men step forward, including the man with the shifty eyes. I keep my sight locked on him.
Max takes his time, having what seems to be simple conversations with the men one by one. He’s about three people away from reaching shifty eyes when my eyes catch a movement in his jeans.
“Wait,” I say in an even tone. The room seems to hold its breath, as if interrupting Max was a fatal sin. “May I?” I ask stepping forward to stand directly next to him.
Max gives me a secret smile and nods his head for me to continue.
I skip over the remaining men, waving to them to go back to their work. They hesitate for half a second but decide better of it.Smart.
I stay still in front of the shifty eye man, refusing to be the first one to speak. His anxiety is now visible in the beads of sweat that are starting to pebble in his hairline.
“Y-yes?” He asks.
It’s like he knows he should be afraid of me. Even though I’m visibly smaller, a woman, and I only have two weapons on me, nobody here knows how good of a shot I am-- other than the Karmas. They say in nature prey always knows when it’s in danger, that it's a sixth sense. Even predators know when they aren’t the biggest threat in the room. The shifty eye man doesn’t necessarily know I’m a threat, but he is intuitive enough to know to be wary of me.
“Strip.” I say keeping my eyes locked on his, and my hands at my sides.
He laughs nervously, “What?”
