The Cunning

92

"That's what we're dealing with tonight." He flicked the cigarette butt out of his window just as he received a text from Peter. He'd messaged him under the guise that they were taking him to Madison tonight. He wanted to put the plan into action before anyone could talk him out of it. Namely himself or Sam.

As if on cue, his Nokia vibrated.

"That's him," he said.

Sam's eyes widened. "What the fuck are we doing Jase?"

Jase flicked the cigarette butt out and wound the windows up, putting the car in reverse.

"I'm going to give him his money back and tell him to keep his mouth shut."

Now Sam was looking at Jase as if he'd grown a second head.

"Really?"

Jase rolled his eyes. "No, not really. I'm going to fucking kill him." He flexed his fingers, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as they stopped at traffic lights. A red glow lit up the inside of the car, painting Jase in a devilish crimson.

"Doesn't he have family?" Sam asked.

"No one he's in contact with." Like Ramen, Jase had done his research. "His store is open 24/7, there are eight members of staff, not including Madison, three of them have keys. He's been sending money in increments to off-shore accounts and has a hefty reputation with several escort services. He won't be missed and we won't be on the radar for his disappearance."

"And you're sure about this?"

Surer by the second, Jase nodded.

"I can't give her to him, man. I just can't."

Sam figured the best thing he could say was to say nothing. Jase had already made his mind up.

They picked Peter up around the corner from the train station. Jase had told him not to bring his car because if anything happened and he was seen, it would make him a suspect. As expected, Peter was too much of a blubbering idiot to ask any questions. He had been jittery on the phone, still sweating from his last encounter with Jase. He got in the back of the car, his weight testing the Mercedes' suspension. The grin on his face turned Jase's stomach, and that was saying something.

"Evening Jase. Sam, nice to see you," Peter greeted cheerily. Sam nodded at him, but Jase said nothing. "I thought this day would never come," he continued, unperturbed by the ominous air in the car. "Does she know I'm coming? She'll probably be a little more relaxed if she sees it's me, someone she knows. Then she'll at least know I'll be gentle with her. You always have to be gentle with them, the virgins. You know what I'm on about, don't you boys?"

Sam dared a sideways glance at Jase. Even in the dark he could make out the shadow of Jase's clenched jaw, those telltale muscles always the first sign that he was trying to keep a handle on his temper. Sam silently willed Peter to shut the fuck up before Jase decided he was going to drag the night out by removing his fingernails one by one.

Peter continued to ramble, desperate to fill the quiet. He was nervous. Mind, anyone that got into a car with Sam and Jase usually was.

They drove for twenty minutes arriving at a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. It was originally a truck workshop but when the business went under it became the ideal hotspot for dodgy doings.

"What are we doing here?" Peter asked.

"We've moved Madison here so that you can visit her whenever you want rather than having to come to the house. If we get raided, it'll save you from being tied to anything." Jase lied with ease.

Moving a girl to a second location for the same services wasn't even something they'd consider doing, and Peter knew no better, but he was still hesitant to climb out of the car. He sensed something was off, however, he lacked the balls to voice his concerns. Peter lacked a lot of things. So, he got out.

Sam led the way, pushing on the semi caved-in door at the back of the building, opening it and allowing Peter to go ahead. He stepped in, following the directions Sam was reciting.

"Just in there," he instructed.

Peter opened a door into a small room, looking around, confused. Instead of Madison like he'd foolishly expected, there was a computer desk in the corner, sheets of paper covered the floor, several muddy footprints all over them. The whole place smelled of blood, like mincemeat left on the kitchen side for a few hours too long, with an earthy undertone. Rats could be heard scuttling around in the walls surrounding them.

"Where's Madison?" Peter asked, turning to face Jase as he drew his gun from his waistband. Peter's eyes flared at the sound of the slider being pulled back.

"She's not coming."