Page 90 of Ink

Ignoring him, I signal for them to stay back while I pick the lock. Wiz told us he had alarms in the house, but the system had been disabled two years ago. Weird flex to have a system and not use it, but I’m not complaining. It makes it that much easier to get to this piece of shit.

Pulling out my lock kit, I crouch down, angling myself to stay out of the light. This one takes about a minute before I hear the sweet click of the lock turning, telling me we’re in. Slowly sliding the patio door open, I signal for Hash and Cyrus to follow me.

I hear a T.V. playing off in the distance, making me head that way. I don’t bother being quiet this time. With each step I take, my boots echo on the wood floor. The closer we get, the more clear it’s becoming that he still doesn’t know we’re here.

Fucking idiot.

Standing in the opening of what looks like a family room with Hash and Cyrus flanking my sides, I take in the room. T.V. mounted on the back wall, one window on the side wall, but it doesn’t look like it opens. No other exits.

Perfect.

“Knock, knock,” I call out as I step further inside the room.

Zach jumps up from the couch. “What the fuck? Who are you?” His brow lowers as he looks us over. He pulls his shoulders back, making his chest broaden slightly. “Oh, it’s you.” He sneers. “I don’t suppose you brought her home?”

“Get a load of this guy.” Hash laughs. “Fuck no, we didn’t bring her home, boy.”

Zach’s eyes flash so quickly with disbelief that I almost missed it. He really thought she was going to run back to him.

A slow smile creeps onto his face. The kind you get when you think you have the upper hand.

“I’m calling the police. I’ll have you each on breaking and entering and harassment.” Zach reaches into his back pocket to pull out his phone.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I tell him at the same time, a gun cocking sounds throughout the room, making him freeze. Cyrus has his gun aimed right at Zach’s phone. “My brother here is usually a pretty good shot, but well, everyone has an off day, right? Is that what you were having when you thought you could waltz onto my territory and leave my woman a fuckin’ note?”

His eyes flare at hearing me call her my woman.

“You can have her.” He sneers. “I saw her. She looks like trash. I guess it makes sense, since she’s slumming it with you now.”

Cyrus tsks. “You really shouldn’t have said that, man.”

On the outside, I look like I’m having a stroll through a fuckin’ park, but on the inside, I’m raging.

Reaching behind to my back pocket, Zach yells, “Don’t shoot me!”

Tilting my head, I cock a brow at him. “What the fuck? I’m not goin’ to shoot you.” He looks relieved, his shoulders visibly sagging. “I just want a smoke and to have a little chat. Shooting you is too fuckin’ easy.”

Zach’s eyes are frantically darting between the gun Cyrus still has aimed at him and the cigar I’m lighting up. Passing it off to Hash, who takes a long drag, I light up another one.

“You need to leave,” Zach orders as he shifts his weight between both feet. He’s getting antsy.

Not so tough anymore, are we?

A cloud of smoke blows past me, heading straight for Zach that has him coughing and waving it away from his face.

“Can you not smoke in my house?” he asks, annoyed.

“Our bad.” I smile, showing my teeth as I approach him. “Were you not smokin’ when you put the burns on my girl’s back?”

Zach pales. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” I patronize. “Those scars on her spine just appeared out of nowhere, huh?”

“Take it up with her dad. I had nothing to do with it.” He shrugs, unable to meet my eyes.

Taking a long drag from the cigar, I blow the smoke right in his face. “He’ll get what’s comin’ to him for pawnin’ his daughter off to a piece of shit like you, but right now, you’re my concern.”

“I said you can have her. I won’t bother her again.” Zach swallows.