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Two men were standing out front drinking beers near the garage-style door. In the several minutes I took stock, no one came in or out of the main door.
And there was another entrance around back. I’d seen it when scoping out the place in the past. I could make it over there without the goons seeing me, right?
All the things they wouldn’t want fucked with the most lay inside.
I walked a short distance up the street, past the stretch of trees to the lot around the neighboring warehouse. Then I crossed the road at a jog and circled around through the trees.
When I’d come up on the back of the gang’s hideout, I tugged the ski mask over my head. It might not help me hide, but it would at least stop them from getting a good look at my face if I ran into any of my enemies.
A span of scruffy field lay between the yard around the other warehouse I was now standing near and the back of the storage building that was my target. I watched for a couple more minutes, my pulse racing through my veins, and then darted across the uneven ground.
I slowed as I reached the asphalt around the building. Muscles tensed, I walked right up to the back door and pressed my ear to the gap.
Nothing. No music, no laughter, no loud conversations.
Something inside of me jumped for joy. A tug of the doorknob proved it was locked, but I knew just how to deal with that.
In a matter of seconds, I’d applied my pins to the minor security issue as quickly as I had the door to the arena my first day in town. Yanking on the knob again, I whisked myself inside the hideout in one fluid motion.
The douchebags weresogoing to regret messing with me.
My eyes darted around the dim hallway I’d come into, searching for an ideal objective.
Farther ahead, the hall split like the head of a T. Muffled voices carried from around the bend to my ears, but there didn’t appear to be any activity in the rooms closest to me.
Setting my feet quietly, I tried the doors in my stretch of hall.
The first opened into what looked like a workout room with exercise mats, weights, a ratty punching bag, and a rowing machine. The second revealed stacks of boxes and plastic crates.
Bingo.
I slipped inside, letting the door shut behind me, and pried open one of the crates. A smirk stretched across my face.
Oh, this was just perfect.
I whipped out several of the bags of white powder tucked inside. When I dug into the plastic with my fingernail, the sharp scent confirmed what I’d suspected.
These guys were holding a whole bunch of cocaine. Too bad for them it soon wouldn’t be in any condition to sell.
I ripped the hole wide and poured the powder all over the floor like a deluge of fine snow. Then another and another, until the dirty cement surface was coated with it.
As I tore apart another bag, I did a little dance across the room, the powder hissing under my sneakers. Grinding it into the cracks and grime for good measure. I had the urge to fit in a little jumps practice too, mashing the stuff with Axels and Lutzes, but there wasn’t quite enough room.
How many tens of thousands of dollars was I losing for these guys in a few short minutes? I pictured the cash going up in flames as I continued my stomping dance.
Maybe that would piss off whoever they were supplying or storing the stuff for enough thatthoseassholes would run these ones out of town for me. Extra bonus.
I was just grabbing another bag close to the bottom of the now nearly empty crate when a shout filtered through the wall.
“Hey, Delroy, that you messing with the merch?”
A jolt of panic raced through my nerves. I’d gotten so caught up in my revenge that I hadn’t been cautious enough—someone must have heard me.
Without risking a second to think, I dashed out into the hall. Footsteps sounded around the corner as I hurtled past the back door.
I sprinted toward the patch of woodland—I could vanish in there like I had the other night. Running on into the woods, I winced at the yells I heard in the distance. But none of them sounded at all close to me.
The gangsters sounded pissed off, but also like they had no clue where the perpetrator of the vandalism had gone.
