Arsen

by Kathryn Thomas

“Roger that, but if you’re not here, and I can hear you, you’re obviously not on your bike. Now who’s the pussy?”

  Mason chuckled. “Man, I’m from Albuquerque. I don’t ride in the fucking rain.”

  “Well I’m from Tucson and you expected me to ride in the fucking rain.”

  Mason chuckled. “I’m about to get off the interstate. I’m in the blue and silver Ram, along with a red Durango.”

  “See you in a couple of minutes,” Arsen said then hung up the phone.

  “Suddenly I’m very nervous,” Quinn said softly.

  “It’ll be okay, but remember, you’re the one who wanted to tag along.”

  “I know. I would be even more nervous if I were at home and I knew you were out here by yourself.”

  “Don’t get jumpy on me now,” he cautioned. “If you get nervous, that makes them nervous. Just stay in the car and stay calm. You’ll know if it goes to shit, otherwise, everything is fine.”

  She swallowed hard and gave her head a quick nod. Now, more than ever, she decided she had to grow B3 so Arsen and the Blades didn’t have to do this anymore.

  A couple of minutes later blue and silver Ram pickup and a deep red Durango pulled to a stop in front of the car. “Keep the motor running. This won’t take long. Pop the trunk,” he said as he opened his door and stepped out in the rain.

  She watched in the mirror as he walked around to the back of the car and pulled out the duffle, closing but not latching the trunk. As he did, a man slid out of the passenger seat of the pickup and pulled a similar duffle out of the back seat of the pickup.

  “You said you were alone. Who’s that with you?” Mason asked as Arsen approached.

  “Bodyguard.” He extended his hand and they shook.

  “A woman? You’re shitting me.”

  “No. She’s an Olympic shooter. She can put one through your eye at a fifty yards without breaking a sweat.”

  Mason looked around him to the small woman sitting in the car. The way she was glaring at him made him distinctly nervous. “I’ll take your word for it.” He handed the bag to Arsen. “You want to count it?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll take your word for it this time. I want to get out of this rain.” Arsen handed his bag across. “One hundred thousand, just like you ordered.”

  The bags were exchanged and the men shook again. “See you again in about three months,” Mason said before he turned and walked back to his vehicle, Arsen doing the same. He lifted the trunk lid, tossed the bag inside, then shut the lid.

  “See, nothing to worry about,” he said as he slid into the seat. “Drive away, slow and easy.”

  “What was that guy looking at?” she asked as she slid the car into gear.

  “You.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled. “I told him you were my bodyguard.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did. I told him you were an Olympic shooter and if he made a wrong move you would shoot his eyes out.”

  “You did not!”

  He chuckled. “Okay, I didn’t tell him the part about you shooting his eyes out, but the rest I did.”

  “Why would you do that? What if I had to prove it?”

  “If you had to prove it, then I would have a lot bigger problem than telling a lie. You wanted to watch my back? Well, you did, and I helped you by giving him something else to think about.” He paused a moment then changed the subject. “You want to drive back or do you want me to do it?”

  “You do it, otherwise you’ll be telling somebody I’m Jimmy Gordon or somebody.”

  He laughed. “Jeff Gordon. Stop over there by the truck stop. I need to take a leak anyway.”

  She pulled to a stop in front of the store portion of the truck stop, and followed him in. By the time she was done in the bathroom the heavens had opened up and it was pouring rain. He was standing by the door, two bottles of water in his hands. He handed one to her as she approached.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said as he pointed the fob at the car and unlocked it. “You ready?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad!” he called as he dashed out. She ran out behind him and slid into the car as he opened the door. He slammed it and ran around to the other side and threw himself under the wheel.

  “I hate the rain,” he said as he slicked the water from his hair. “It’s why I live in Arizona. I only have to deal with this shit a couple weeks a year.”

  “It could be worse. You could be making the exchange now.”

  “Fuck that. I’d send you out to do it,” he said as he cranked the car to life.

  “Nuh-uh. I’m the bodyguard, remember?”

  He chuckled as he put the car in reverse and backed out of the space.

  ***

  They were in the big nothing between Lordsburg, New Mexico, and Tucson, Arizona, and they had been driving in the pouring rain the entire time. If it was still pissing down like this when he got back to Tucson, he was taking his damn car to Phoenix.

  He looked over at Quinn and grinned. She had tipped her seat back and gone to sleep. “Some bodyguard you are,” he muttered, chuckling as she slowly raised her left hand and give him the finger.

  He was doing about fifty, the torrential rain slowing traffic as the car’s wipers working furiously to clear the windshield. He didn’t notice the silver Ford pickup creeping up beside him, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have thought anything about it…until the passenger rolled down the window and began firing into the car.

  Chapter 42

  Quinn shrieked and cringed against her door as Arsen’s window shattered with the crack of a gunshot. Arsen jammed the brakes hard on, the truck flashing past them before its brake lights popped on, then realized if they stopped, they were going to be in gun fight he didn’t want. The passenger leaned out of the truck window and fired into the car as the truck swerved to block them in, bullets pinging and popping as the windshield crazed.

  He floored the accelerator and the super-charged engine wailed as the car surged away. He whipped around the still slowing truck and passed it in a cloud of spray. The CTS V was fast, very fast, and there was no way the pickup could catch them, except the car was mortally wounded with warning lights beginning to illuminate on the dash as they raced through the rain.

  “Get my phone! Call Phil! We’re going to need help!”

  As Quinn worked the phone he struggled with the car, driving as fast as he dared, focusing on keeping it steady as it hydroplaned and watching the dash as more and more lights signaled failing systems.

  He slowed, trying to nurse the car along, but the temperature gauge was already in the yellow and still climbing. As the engine began to knock he slowed even more, but the car wasn’t going to make it much farther.

  “No answer!”

  “Get ready to run!”

  “What?” Quinn cried.

  “The car is fucked! We’re going to have to run! Get ready!” He pulled the car to the side of the road and slammed to a stop. “Run!” he said, grabbing his phone and pistol before swinging his door open. They ran down the slight embankment and into the scrub just as the pickup passed, its brake lights flashing as the driver slammed on the brakes and hauled the truck to the side of the road.

  “Keep running!” Arsen called, dragging her along as he tried to disappear into the rain. The truck roared, turning down the embankment, mud flying as the driver battered his way across the rain soaked desert floor.

  Arsen hooked right, running at a right angle to the truck. “Keep going! I’m right behind you!” he yelled as he released her hand and pivoted to face the truck, firing nine shots into the truck. The truck slew around as it turned to follow them, then ground to a halt as the engine raced, mud flying from all four tires.

  “They’re stuck! Back to the car!” Arsen screamed as he chased after Quinn, hoping she heard him over the pelting rain. If the car would run even five minutes
more, that would allow them to put enough distance between themselves and the gunmen to get away.

  Quinn began to loop back toward the interstate as a gun popped nine times in quick succession. His heart nearly stopped when Quinn went down, but she popped back up, muddy but apparently unhurt, and began to run again.

  He could see the two people from the truck running toward them on an angle. They obviously realized where Quinn and Arsen were heading and were trying to cut them off. He debated swerving and trying to run around them, but he knew it was a useless tactic. He was out of ammunition, and if the gunmen had reloaded, they were dead anyway.

  “Quinn! Wait!” he called, slowing to a walk as he tried to catch his breath. She stopped and he trotted to her.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice quivering as she panted.

  “I’m out of ammo. Stay behind me and we’ll see how this plays.” He knew how it was going to play. They were going to die. He couldn’t take two men, and once he was down, Quinn didn’t stand a chance. He reached to his hip and pulled his blade. He may go down, but he was taking at least one of those assholes with him.

  Quinn cowered behind Arsen as he marched toward the two figure, his knife gripped firmly in his hand. He was obviously prepared to fight, but with two of them…She squinted as the figures approached.

  “It’s them,” she gasped, grabbing his jacket.

  “Who?”

  “The woman, Stacy, and the man she was fucking, the man that enjoyed hurting us.”

  He could now make out it was a woman and a man in their path. He knew Robert, and the man standing before him wasn’t Robert. “You Todd?” Arsen asked as the four of them stopped ten feet apart.

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s this going down?” Arsen growled.

  Todd smiled, a nasty smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’m get to kill you and take back that bitch. I knew she was with the Blades, but I didn’t know she was with you. I’m going to hurt her. I’m going to hurt her bad for what she did to Pick.” His eyes shifted to Quinn. “How about it, bitch? You ready for round two?”

  Arsen nodded, refusing to be baited. “So you were fucking the President’s old lady even before I killed him?”

  “Roger was weak. Stacy knows a real man when she sees one. I’m going to rebuild the Horsemen and we’re going to fuck the Blades like I fucked that bitch, long, hard, and without mercy.”

  “That’s going to be hard to do when you’re dead,” Arsen growled as he crouched and began to crab away from Quinn, his knife held in front of him. He wasn’t an experienced knife fighter, but he would live long enough to gut this motherfucker.

  Todd smiled and pulled his own knife from his belt. “Come on, you fucker,” Todd snarled. “Let’s see what you got.”

  ***

  Quinn was petrified with fear, her hands at her mouth as the two men circled each other, crouched low with their blades pointed in front of them. She was so transfixed she didn’t notice Stacy take the three steps forward, crying out as the bigger woman grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head hard back.

  “I can’t wait to get you back to Phoenix,” Stacy snarled into her face. “Just you, me, and Todd. We’re going to have so much fun.”

  Quinn couldn’t move, her face twisting with pain and fear. “Let us go, please! I won’t talk!” she cried, gripping the hand in her hair with her own to try to relieve the pain.

  The older woman’s face twisted into an evil smile as she jerked her head again. “Oh, I know that, bitch. First, you’re going to watch as Todd guts him like a fish, then we’re taking you back to Phoenix where we’re going to finish what we started.”

  Quinn twisted, trying to free her hair. She would rather die here in the desert than go back to Phoenix, and a white hot rage came over her. This evil bitch was going to hurt her? She may be twice her size, but she wasn’t going to Phoenix, not while she drew a breath. With a scream more animal than human, Quinn twisted and raked Stacy’s face with her nails.

  ***

  Arsen wiped the water from his face as he continued to circle Todd, trying to take a measure of his opponent. He heard Quinn scream in pain but didn’t dare look away. Quinn was going to have to fend for herself because if Todd killed him, she was dead anyway. They continued to move in a slow circle, Todd making feints and taunting him, but Arsen wasn’t biting. He wanted Todd to come to him. As they continued to circle, Quinn and Stacy came into view. He couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking to the women as they fell in the mud, and that was the opening Todd was waiting for.

  Todd lunged in, knife low, and tried to drive the blade into Arsen’s gut. Arsen backpedaled and twisted, grabbing the hand as it passed and twisted it away, then force his hand up and locked the arm over his own so he couldn’t turn the knife back on him. He swept his own knife back along Todd’s arm, but it was pointed the wrong way, the butt of the knife hitting Todd in the face.

  Todd’s head snapped back as blood flowed from his broken nose. Arsen turned to bring his blade around, but Todd grabbed his knife hand to prevent him from burying the blade. Arsen grunted, trying to force the blade down, but their arms were tangled.

  “Now I’ve got you, you fucker,” Todd grunted as he fell backwards, dragging Arsen down with him.

  ***

  Stacy reared back with a cry of pain as Quinn opened three bloody gouges on her face. Free of Stacy’s grip on her hair, she pivoted and charged the woman, no longer thinking as her fight or flight response became fully engaged and her body dumped adrenaline into her system. Quinn hit her, driving her from her feet and to the ground. She rode her down, the impact barely registering, before she grabbed Stacy by the hair and began to pound her head against the ground.

  Stacy was a big, tough, woman, used to brawling, and she clawed at the smaller woman, but Quinn was a hellcat, ignoring Stacy’s grasping hands. With a cry of pain and effort, Stacy managed to dislodge Quinn from her chest, tumbling over her as she tried to escape the punishment Quinn was raining down on her.

  No longer able to hammer Stacy’s head against the ground, Quinn grabbed Stacy by the throat with both hands. Stacy’s eyes bulged as she gripped Quinn’s hands and tried to pull them from her throat.

  With another snarl, Quinn twisted Stacy off of her, her hands still locked on her throat as they lay side by side in the mud. “Die, you bitch,” she snarled, spittle flying from her lips.

  ***

  Arsen landed on Todd with a grunt. He and Todd were locked in a test of strength, each trying to bury their blade in their opponent while preventing the same. He strained to drive his knife into Todd, but couldn’t get the leverage, not while worrying about keeping Todd’s blade out of his own side. He changed his tactics and reared back and scrambled away on hands and knees, kicking out with a booted foot as Todd scrambled to follow.

  His foot connected solidly with Todd’s face, his face exploding with blood. Arsen changed his grip on his knife and lunged back at Todd, wanting to take advantage of Todd’s slowed reactions. He tried to drive his knife into Todd, but his opponent blocked the thrust. Arsen continued to move, sliding past to get behind him.

  Todd, realizing he was at a severe disadvantage, dropped his knife as he used two hands to try to hold off Arsen’s blade. With Arsen’s arm around his neck, his knife only inches from plunging into his stomach, Todd used both hands to try to stop Arsen’s knife from plunging into him.

  “Who’s fucked now?” Arsen grunted.

  Their muscles bulging, their faces twisted into feral masks of pain and effort, the two men strained, kicking and squirming in the mud as the rain poured. With a scream of pain, Todd’s strength failed and Arsen’s blade plunged into his stomach. Arsen quickly pulled the knife and plunged it in again, and then again, then again, three more hard fast plunges as Todd shrieked in agony.

  ***

  Quinn kept her hands around Stacy’s throat as they rolled over again, Quinn coming to rest on top. Stacy had her hands under her
chin, forcing her head back. She had a longer reach and she was winning the test of strength. Realizing she could no longer hold her, Quinn released Stacy and threw herself away and scrambled to her feet, turning to face the woman as she struggled, holding her throat and coughing as she gasped for breath.

  Quinn charged again, again driving them to the ground before grabbing Stacy’s hair and bashing her head against the ground. Quinn could sense the fight going out of Stacy but she kept hammering her head, then switched back to her throat, leaning in with all her weight.

  Kicking and clawing, Stacy tried to throw her off, but Quinn clung to her like a burr. “You fucking bitch…you fucking bitch…you fucking bitch,” Quinn chanted as she leaned in, trying to crush the woman’s throat.