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Fox paused at a door that looked like it led to a kitchen and glanced back at me, then pointed at a door that went to a hallway. I nodded and quietly made my way toward the front of the house. We met by the door, both of us having searched our first-floor area and coming up with nothing. I jerked my head toward the stairs, and he followed silently as I ascended. The first door on the right was slightly ajar, and muffled noises came from inside. I used the barrel of my gun to nudge it open since I had no desire to touch anything in this place.
A small, dirty lamp on a little table beside a twin mattress rested on the floor. I grimaced when I realized the sounds had been a man receiving a blow job from a hooker. When she shifted, I recognized the junkie’s clothing and heaved an annoyed sigh.Fucking great.
I flipped off the safety on my gun and pointed it at his head before kicking the mattress to get their attention. The man cursed, and the woman shrieked, scrambling backward when she looked up and spotted my weapon.
“What the fuck?” he slurred as he clumsily reached for the half-dressed whore as she took off. “Get back here, bitch. I paid—”
“Shut him up,” Fox snarled.
I bent down and punched him in the jaw, choosing a spot that would cause him a fuck ton of pain without breaking the bone. Then I growled, “Put that thing away and get the fuck up, asshole.”
He glared at me…although the effect wasn’t really there since his eyes were so bloodshot and glassy. Then he tried to say something but ended up groaning in pain.
“I’m not in the mood to carry your sorry ass out of here, but if you don’t get on your feet in the next five seconds, I’ll put you in even more pain.”
The man grunted and glanced around as if looking for an escape. Once again, I sighed, then kicked the side of his knee, dislocating his kneecap.
He tried to scream in pain, but his jaw was too swollen.
“Blade,” Fox muttered.
“What?” I asked casually. “I didn’t break it.”
His voice was slightly amused when he replied, “Save it for The Room. Just get his ass up and let's go.”
“You’re right. Why waste all the fun here?” I pointed my gun at the man’s groin and snarled, “Put it away, or I shoot it off. I’m not carrying you out of here with your pea-sized dick flopping around.”
He grunted and quickly tucked his flaccid shaft into his pants and zipped up. Then he sat up and tried to stand, but he collapsed when he put weight on his injured knee.
“Fucking hell,” I grunted. Swinging my gun toward his head, I aimed for a precise spot that I knew would knock him out but not for long. Then I tucked my gun into the holster and hefted the dealer’s body over my shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m gonna need to shower for an entire day to get his stench off me.”
“Could be worse,” Fox mused as we headed down the stairs. “At least he didn’t piss on himself.”
I snorted, then almost gagged from the stench. “I’d have shot him right here and been done with it before I went anywhere near his piss.”
“Agreed.”
We exited the house, and I stomped all the way to the van, where Deviant waited with the door open. I tossed the fucker inside and slammed the door shut, then took my first real breath since we’d entered the stash house. It didn’t help because I was still mired in the asshole’s stink.
“Maybe two days.”
Sick and tiredof waiting for the dealer to wake up, I grabbed a bucket of ice water and strolled into the interrogation hold where he was tied to a chair. I threw the water at him and tossed the bucket to the side. Happily, it had the intended effect, and he woke up sputtering, then groaned in agonizing pain.
While he’d been unconscious, I injected meds into his jaw to take down the swelling. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to hear him scream. But it was still bruised and had to hurt like a bitch.
I waited for him to calm down, then I moved to stand directly in front of him. I felt my brothers standing at my back, and when the lowlife finally looked up and saw us, what little color was left in him disappeared.
“You know who we are?” I asked.
His gaze dropped to the logoed patch on the front of my vest, then returned to my face, his eyes filled with terror.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Blade.”
I turned when I heard Maverick say my name, and he held out a black leather medical bag that sported a bright red cross on it. “Seriously?” The bag held some of my special “tools,” but he’d clearly added the cross to annoy me.
“I thought it was appropriate,” he smirked before pivoting and leaving the room.
