by Neal, Xavier
On the top floor I stroll past the open doors, which obviously aren't the bedrooms I'm looking for nor are they big enough to even be considered. At the far end there's a set of closed double doors.
Bingo.
“I've never personally put a banana there,” Daniel says in a way that I know he's smiling.
Shaking my head, I slide out my lock picking tools and get to work.
First time I picked a lock? I was six. It was sort of like finding the right block for the right hole as a child. I found something that was similar in flatness, stuck it in the hole, and shimmied it around until the damn thing clicked open. I wanted those cookies, so I got them.
The door clicks open and reveals to me a bedroom fit for a billionaire. The posh décor is more feminine than I would prefer with it's peach tone colors and chocolate browns along with the chandelier. There are frilly pillows and rugs to match.
Is this the master bedroom?
Doubt crowds my thoughts, but only briefly, due to the sound of footsteps. Quickly I slip inside and behind the drapes, making sure to keep my body frozen, and my shoes covered. The footsteps seem light and harmless, but I remain stiff. My fists ball at my sides preparing to swing if necessary. Suddenly there's a light rhythmical tapping. I hone in on it.
You hear it too don't you. It's Living On A Prayer. Go ahead and hum, just do it quietly. Who doesn't love a little Bon Jovi in their life?
Pulling the drape back, I notice Daniel smirking from behind the closed door. He makes a motion for us to speed up the process. My eyes do a scan of the room not spotting the sculpture I'm supposed to be lifting. Frustrated, I start to doubt we're in the right room again.
What? What do you mean turn around?
I glance over my shoulder at the three pieces that are sitting in the wall nook behind a thin curtain closest to the bathroom. With a wide smirk, I hustle over and carefully make the swap.
Uncanny right? See. I'm good at this shit.
Once I've got the pieces switched, I crack open the bathroom door and mouth, “Follow. Me.”
Daniel nods and slips inside with me. Behind the closed bathroom door, I start to open the first door looking for the towel closet. Thankful my find is immediate, I search the top shelf for the First Aid kit. The second my hand finds the handle I smile.
See. She can be trusted. Don't wonder how she knows it would be there. Where do you keep yours?
Quietly I place the kit on the table and open my palm. I mouth, “Knife.”
He shakes his head.
When my head sarcastically tilts he rolls his eyes and carefully removes it from his jacket pocket. Daniel mouths, “What did you expect?”
I mouth, “That.”
“It's awfully quiet,” The Devil growls in a displeased tone.
“It's better to be silent when stealing shit than yelling about it,” I answer as I pull up my pant leg. “So how about you shut the fuck up, so we can get this done on time?”
The Devil doesn't respond.
I know. I'll pay for that later too.
Sterilizing the knife with one of the wipes in the kit and then sterilizing my fingers, I hand the tool back to my brother, and indicate where he needs to cut. When Daniel shakes his head I mouth, “Cut. Me. We're being tracked.” He makes a frustrated face but does as he’s told. Carefully he makes a slight slit. I reach inside and pull out the small flashing red device. We work together to get the cut cleaned and bandaged. Afterward Daniel lifts his leg, which is when I shake my head. The puzzled look increases when I point to the back of my neck.
Daniel shakes his head slowly.
I mouth, “Yeah. Turn.”
He makes a pissed off expression, but turns around. I clean my hands and the object once more. Even more cautious than he was, I make a small slit where Melody indicated, thankful to see the red flashing device immediately. Removing it slowly, I clean the area and bandage him back up. With both of our GPS trackers wrapped in tissue, we slip them in our pockets. Afterward I grab the shot out of my inside pocket and hand it to him.
“The antidote,” I mouth. “Take it now.”
He nods and prepares to when there's a set of footsteps headed our direction.
Fuck...
Quickly I grab the first aid kit and slip into the towel closet.
“What are you doing in here?” A voice asks Daniel. “What are you doing in my bathroom?”
Through the crack of the door, I see a man, a man I can only assume is Harrison. Daniel maintains eye contact with him as he answers. “Special guest. Special privileges.”
Harrison hums and folds his arms across his chest. “What other special privileges do you feel you should be entitled too?”
I cover my mouth to hold back the laughter.
Daniel's dying inside I just know it.
“Uh...” he stumbles around, clears his throat.
“Don't be nervous Duke. You don't have to share me if you don't want...”
Another urge rips through me to laugh.
My womanizing brother has to pretend to enjoy being hit on by a dude. This is a story I am telling again and again at dinner. You bet your ass I am.
Daniel's eyes meet me through the crack of the door.
“You can do anything to me you want,” Harrison insists. “Anything.”
“Oh yeah?” Daniel questions. “Anything at all?”
“Dom me,” he begs relentlessly.
You know, you see this kind of shit in porn, well I've seen the male, female version of it, and you think it doesn't really happen. But here we are. At an entire party apparently devoted to it.
“Get on your knees. Place your hands behind your back. Close your eyes.”
“Yes master,” Harrison whimpers and drops to his knees.
Once his eyes are closed Daniel makes a hand motion for me to exit. “Keep them closed.”
“Yes master.”
I slip out of the door and quietly out of the bathroom while Daniel shakes his head at me. With a crooked smirk I give him a wink.
He mouths. “Fuck you.”
Making the motion like Harrison's going to suck his cock, I silently laugh.
What'd you expect? Me to have no fun? You've met us right?
“Daniel,” The Devil's voice invades my ears. “Where are you?”
“Heading to make the swap now,” I lie for my brother, grateful it's hard to tell even our voices apart.
“Good. The rig is in place.”
“Still searching for the sculpture,” Daniel leaks into the conversation. “It's not on display as expected.”
“Asshole probably hid it in case anyone got curious during the party,” The Devil mumbles. “Find my fucking statue.”
“Yeah,” Daniel answers just steps behind me.
“Drew speed it up. You need to follow Daniel to the drop off point, so he can follow you back here. I want both of you putting objects into my hands.”
“Got it,” we answer in unison.
The two of us head in opposite directions, the end result needing to be the same. I arrive near the elevators which is when Daniel mouths, “Switch tags.”
Nodding, I tuck it into my coat jacket and head into the elevator. On a deep breath I prepare for the elementary school easy swap. I stroll out of the elevator to see one of the security guards as well as one of the valet boys.
“Sir,” the young man calls to me. “You didn't want me to bring your vehicle up for you?”
“No,” I calmly answer. “Harrison told me I could admire his bike before I left. Didn't feel the need to have you bring mine all the way up when I could kill two birds with one stone.”
“Wise choice,” the valet replies. “His bike is this direction...” While strolling beside him I spot my brother's bike a few spaces over from mine. “We just ask no one touches it.”
“Of course not,” I agree. Beside my brother's bike, I abruptly stop. “One moment. I need to tie my shoe.” Leaning down I notice the security guard glance away givi
ng me the smallest chance to pull the tag off.
“Mr. Smith likes to display his collective pieces next to everyone else's. He likes the way it makes everyone look beneath him.” The valet stops in front of the legendary motorcycle. “Here we are.”
I suppress my urge to look impressed. With a hum, I nod slowly and stroll around the bike, eyes fixated on the spot I need to drop the tag.
Believe me, I wanna drool over this baby. I want to touch her in ways that could make the most experienced bike rider fall to his knees. I want to take her away from this display prison she's stuck in and free her. Yeah. Just like I wanna free Mel.
With my arms folded, I continue to stare waiting for the expected cue. The security guard gets a page that causes him to shift uncomfortably. Out of the corner of my eyes, I wait until the guard makes a hand motion for the valet to come to his side. He hesitates to leave me. The guard makes another hand motion while glancing at his phone once more. At that moment I slip the tag on and move my body to be beside the valet.
“Do I need to end my admiration early?”
He starts to bounce on the balls of his feet. When the security guard looks up he sighs, “Yes. I'm sorry sir. I need to get to your vehicle. Ticket please.” I hand it to him and we start to move across the garage. Calling out to the guard he announces, “I'll be right there.”
The two of us arrive at my motorcycle. He scurries away to grab my keys. I keep my eyes on my bike. The Valet hands me my keys, politely thanks me for being a guest, and wishes me safe travels. On the bike, I secure my bag, the sound of feet moving faster, grabbing my attention. The guard and the valet move together, both with panicked expressions. Making a smooth exit out of the garage and out the gate, I pull onto a side road close by to wait for my brother.
Impatiently I tap my foot.
What's taking him so long? This shit should've went by quick and smooth. Get the guard out, get a spare newer, unfamiliar with the place Valet to retrieve the vehicle. Get the fuck out....what's the hold up?
More time passes by and my nerves grow restless. Suddenly there's shouting over my earpiece. “We've got a problem!”
Baffled by his loud exclamation, I snap back, “What kind of problem?”
“A red and blue problem!” He screams, voice still in a panic. “And it's on my ass!”
Before I can ask his location or a heads up of where to meet him, he races by, flashing cop lights following.
“Fuck!”
“We're gonna need a little extra time,” Daniel calls to The Devil. Without waiting for him to answer, he gripes, “Thought you had called the dogs off!”
“I did,” The Devil growls. “That is not one of mine.”
“Well we don't have any!” Daniel's voice gets louder. “Triple D where the fuck are you?”
I start the bike up. “Where do you want me to be?”
“I took the side road, first right!” Daniel rushes out. “Drop point is off the highway, exit 679. Abandoned warehouse parking lot. Help me get there!”
“On it!” Increasing the speed of my bike, I take the route we came with the idea of hopping back onto the highway a little later. Flying down the two lane curvy rode, I accelerate until I'm pushing speeds that will grab the cops attention if he hasn't called in for back up yet.
Zooming onto the highway it doesn't take long to spot him or the cop that's riding his ass.
“Right lane.” I announce. “Fall back.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Daniel grumbles.
“Do it.”
I push my speed and come around on the right side, revving to grab the cops attention. When he spots me, I fly forward, the intention for him to leave Daniel to come after me.
“Falling off,” Daniel informs. “Three more exits and you've made it. Lose him before that!”
“Don't you get caught,” The Devil grumbles into the ear piece. “Don't. You. Dare. Get. Caught.”
Easy for him to say. He's not the one with a cop so far up his ass, he can taste the doughnut the dude had on his break.
The cop is tight on me as I weave around traffic, and for the first time I'm afraid I might not make it out of this one. Suddenly there's another cop with his lights on, waiting to assist. Between the two, I realize I'm fucked. The best I can do is get off the highway and try a possible Shake and Bake.
While they are running my plates before they take my keys, run off again. You'd be surprised how often that actually works.
I pull off at the exit like planned.
Who knows. Maybe The Devil's man is packing heat and can help. Fuck, maybe Daniel can too.
“I see you,” Daniel announces.
“You see my visitors?”
Daniel sighs, “Yeah. I've got a plan. Pull over.”
Gliding off to the side of the road, the cops follow.
The Devil repeats, “I warned you McCoys.”
After I kill my engine, I leave the keys in, but lift my hands slowly. “Middle Man, Shake and Bake?”
“Even better.”
The two cops get off their bikes, weapons drawn and yell, “On the ground! Now!”
With a deep sigh, I start to follow the instructions, which is when one of them yells, “Slowly! Keep those hands where we can see them!”
Lowering myself onto the ground, I let my knees hit the concrete, the fabric of the designer suit providing no cushion.
Stupid fucking suit.
“All the way down!” One of the cops yells as he continues to approach.
The Devil snaps, “Bring me my statue no matter the cost. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” I whisper back.
A pair of black boots appear in front of my face. With my heart thrumming against the road, I try to lay still. Suddenly a pair of hands roughly searches me quickly, before I'm being yanked upward. As soon as I'm on my feet my jaw drops to where I just was.
No fucking way...
The cop motions to his lip and then to my ear. Next he motions what he wants me to do with it. I reach in my ear and remove the communication device. After placing it with the GPS tracking device I leave them both on the ground next to the wheel of my motorcycle.
Once everything is there and we're a good distance from it, I prepare to say something, which is when I receive the finger to the lips motion again. We approach the parking lot where the big rig is already loaded. Stealthy the two people dressed in cop uniforms each move to the driver's door. I give Daniel a glance who is smirking while he smokes his cigarette.
Yeah, but he's always smoked. Started about the same time he could drive himself to grab a pack.
Before I can say anything to him, I hear the vehicle door open, and a heavy sigh. “Really, Madden? You didn't think I could handle knocking the guy out?”
A giant smile comes from me as Knox pushes him out of her way. “I didn't want you to knock him out.”
“Why? Afraid she'd break a nail?” Daniel calls out with a laugh.
“Keep talkin' shit and see how many I break on you,” she storms over with Madden at her side.
“He made the call that he had the package, so as far as The Devil is concerned this is already in route,” Daniel announces. “We've got a noise scrambler. He'll think there's a scuffle, shots fired, and then it'll be silent.”
Destin tosses an arm around my shoulder. “It's so fucking good to see you, bro.”
Turning the half ass hug into a full one, I give him a heavy pat. “Fuck, man. I missed you.”
“Yeah,” he replies pulling away.
“Save the sentimental moments to be shared over milk and cookies,” Knox snaps. “We've gotta get this moving before The Devil gets any clue what's happening.”
“How is any of this possible?” Looking at Destin I ask, “The Devil is watching you.”
“He is watching us,” Destin gleefully says. When I tilt my head, he explains, “We pre- recorded video footage, had it synced, and chopped as necessary. There is enough pre- recorded answers to conversations to ge
t us by.”
“You would need someone looped into his live video and feeding him the appropriate answers-”
“It's a good thing Vinnie was accepting favors,” Destin's response gets a nod of approval from me.
“Like my plan?” Daniel gloats.
“Your plan?” Knox snips.
