Rip's Baby: Hounds of Hades MC

by Nicole Fox

  He slammed the door shut behind him when he left, no other words needing to be spoken. He locked the door again, leaving me alone in the room.

  I shivered as I looked down at the trail of bloody handprints that Kessa had left, the dark red soaking into the carpet. She wouldn't let me help her. She'd been terrified, but she'd kept me out of it, not wanting to see me injured.

  I had to get out of here, I realized. I had to get out of here, now. The clothes didn't matter; the shoes didn't matter. Just take what little money I had, take the ring, get out. If I could, I'd come back for her. But from inside Daddy's estate, I couldn't do anything.

  So I had to leave.

  Tonight.

  Now.

  Chapter Six

  Ford

  I banged my head into the steering wheel of the old Pontiac, the sudden pain not adding any clarity to my situation. But, still, I kept doing it anyways as I sat there in the parking lot of the shitty motel I'd been forced to hole up in.

  Even after going back and winning some of my bankroll back, I was still short on my payment to Tambor. How was I going to pay him back now? Doing this work wasn't any kind of life, not one that was worth leading. Some guys might have gotten off on this kind of work, but I sure as fuck wasn't one of them. I still had some principles.

  The worst part about it? I could even tell that that last part was changing. Each time I did the bloody work, it became easier and easier. It just took practice, was all. Cruelty was apparently like any other skill. The more you did, the better at it you became.

  My phone rang in my pocket. I fished it out, knowing exactly who it was going to be, so the name Tambor didn't surprise me when I saw it.

  “Yeah,” I said as I put the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, hey, hey, Ford,” Tambor said into my ear. “Looking through the books, and I saw my favorite boxing buddy was up for his next payment.”

  “Got a funny way of treating your buddies, Tambor,” I replied.

  “Aw, come on now, Ford, this is just business. You know that.”

  Business, huh? Sounded more like pleasure, with the way he always seemed so damn cheery on the phone. I snorted. “Yeah, Tambor. That's what you say.”

  “I'm truly hurt, pal,” he said, his voice full of hurt. I knew it was fake though, all just part of a fucking act. “Truly, truly hurt that you'd think that about me, that I get some sort of sick joy from having you owe me money.”

  I just silently shook my head. No reason to dance around things. Just better to come out and say it, that was my view. “Listen, Tambor, I need an extension.”

  He made a wincing noise. “Ford, pal, you know I can't do extensions for you. You know that. I give you an extension ’cause you're my buddy, and I like you, I start to look weak when word gets around I ain't impartial on my debt collection strategies. You feel me, pal? You understand?”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. I'd known that was coming, but it was worth a shot anyways. Now he was either going to offer me another shitty job, that I'd be expected to do for free, of course. Or, he was going to send someone after me. Either way, getting out of town was starting to look like the only real option available.

  Los Angeles sounded nice, I thought. Big city, bright lights. I could get by out there, so long as I kept my head down. Clubs could always use a good bouncer, someone to take out the trash and throw it on its ass.

  “Tell you what, though,” Tambor said, sounding like a used car salesman who was about to tell you how good of a deal he was about to make for you with his boss. “I got me a job that might clear up your debt, and clear it up for good.”

  I groaned quietly and leaned my head back against the seat. If it was something that was going to wipe my slate clean, that meant it must be truly fucking awful. Like, I'm going to hell, and I'm driving the motherfucking bus, awful.

  “Got a kid, some rich kid who's playing with his pappy's cash, you know? He made some bets, some real bad bets. String of ’em, like this kind can't fucking win to save his life. But he said he was good for it, and he seemed like it was. Now, though? Now, the little pissant's trying to bilk me. Trying to stiff me, not even making payments on his debt.”

  I brought my hand up, squeezing the ridge of my nose. “What do you need me to do, Tambor?” I asked with a sigh. “Rough him up? Break his fingers?”

  “Nah, I don't think that'll send the right message. Need you to do something that'll really drive home how badly he needs to pay.”

  I remained silent.

  “Need you to pick up his little brother from school.”

  My eyes went wide. “And do what with him, Tambor?”

  “Just hold him till we get our money.”

  “Fucking A. You fucking serious?”

  “Just till I get my money, Ford,” Tambor said, not even bothering to fake that hurt anymore. “That's all. Or, you know, you can just go ahead and pay your loan back in full by tomorrow afternoon. Your choice.”

  I winced. “The full thing?”

  “The full motherfucking note, asshole,” Tambor said, the same way someone would ask for you to pass the salt. “Tomorrow.”

  “I ain't got that kind of money, Tambor. You know that. Give me something else to do, and I'll get it done. But not that.”

  My loan shark laughed into the phone. “Something else? This ain't a fucking temp agency, Ford; you know that. You don't get options on this. You do what you're told, or there's fucking consequences. Ain't no one ever told you about consequences before?”

  “What if I can't pay?” I asked.

  “Well,” he replied, an affable tone back in his voice, “I'm trying to get you to kidnap some kid so his older brother'll pay up, Ford. What the fuck does that tell you about that what-if scenario? Huh?”

  I shook my head and ran a hand down my face.

  I couldn't do this. I couldn't just kidnap some kid from his school and hold him for fucking ransom. I wasn't that kind of person. Never in a million years would I ever be that kind of person.

  “Make your choice by tomorrow, Ford,” Tambor said, his voice suddenly colder than I'd ever heard it. “This job, and you, got an expiration date.” The phone clicked as he hung up on me.

  I dropped the phone in my lap and slammed my head back into the headrest over and over. “Fuck!” I yelled to my empty car.

  He had me between a rock and a hard place, the fucking asshole. Jesus Christ, how had I gotten get so fucking far into this shit? How had I sunk so fucking low? Kidnapping fucking kids?

  Think. I had to think.

  Then I remembered my mother's ring, the last bit of her I had left. She'd given it to me on her deathbed and told me to give it to a special girl someday. A woman who would make me happy. It was worth a pretty penny, and the cash might be able to offset my debt. Or maybe, just maybe, I could hock it and drive up to Vegas with the cash and hit the casinos. Yeah, that'd do it. That'd put me back in the black.

  I'd had pretty good luck lately. And even if my luck didn't pan out, what was the worst that could happen? I was already fucked anyways, right? I mean, when your options are to either kidnap a kid from school or get smudged off the balance sheet by your loan shark, there's really nowhere to go but up.

  I climbed out of my car and went to open up the back door, to grab my old leather coat where the ring was. As I got out though, I caught a sight that stopped me in my tracks.

  Micah. Walking down the motel walkway in jeans and a T-shirt, her shoulders slumped as she slunk through the shadows, headed for the motel's admin office. Even in this state, she was still as beautiful as when she'd stopped me from getting into the fight, earlier. The clothes did nothing to hide her figure, and I felt myself beginning to get hard again at the sight of her, my prick not giving two shits about how she made her money.

  What the hell was she doing here? I thought she lived up at that estate I'd dropped her in front of. “Micah?” I asked, my hand dropping from the back door as I approached her.

  She stopped and loo
ked at me, blinking. Then, realization set in. “Ford?” she asked. “Is that you?”

  “Yep,” I said, going to her, meeting her in the middle. “What are you doing here? Everything okay?”

  As I walked closer, I realized she'd been crying. Even with her makeup washed from her face, I could see the puffiness around the eyes. She sniffled a little. “No,” she said flatly, her voice stuffy-sounding from the tears she must've been shedding by the bucket. “I came to get a room and lie low.”

  “Lie low?” I asked, glancing around the parking lot. If she was in trouble, maybe I could help.

  “Yeah,” she said, sniffling again. “I ran away from the place where I was living.”

  “From your pimp, you mean,” I said. “From Daddy Williams.”

  A look of surprised shame passed over her face, and she looked away, her eyes lowered. “I was just an escort for Daddy,” she nearly whispered. “I never fucked a man just for the money. Is that what you thought I was? Some whore?”

  That hurt. Now it was my turn to look away. “Look, I didn't know till I went back to the roadhouse and some of the guys mentioned it towards the end of the game, all right?”

  “Well, I'm not one. I'm out of that. I ran away when he tried to lock me in my room for the night. He wants me to be a whore, but I told him no.”

  I nodded, a perplexed look on my face as I spotted a random leaf entwined in her dark red curls.

  She flinched as I pulled the random bit of yard trash from her hair. She just shook her head as she looked at it.

  “Where you headed next, then?”

  She sighed and looked up at me, resolve entering her eyes as she lifted her chin. “Back to the Mansion. I need to get my friend Kessa out, too.”

  I almost burst out laughing, but I managed to keep it in. Her tiny little frame all squared off and her shoulders pushed back like she was ready to fight the world struck me as comical. At the same time, though, it was admirable. She was willing to fight a man like Daddy Williams, a man I'd heard stories about that were nearly as bad as the ones that circled around Tambor. So instead, I just nodded. “Not much of an escape plan, is it?”

  She smiled a little and sniffed again. “She's my friend. I have to help her. Or, well, at least try. Then I can leave.”

  A plan started to form in my head, then. Daddy Williams would love to have this sweet little thing back, I knew it. And he'd probably pay well to get her, too. Maybe he'd pay well enough that I could use the finder's fee to pay back Tambor and wipe my slate clean. Then I wouldn't have to sell my mother's ring, and I wouldn't have to kidnap some school kid.

  After all, I rationalized, even if Micah hadn't chosen to become a whore, she'd still made the choice to work for a man like Daddy Williams as an escort. She'd known what was going to come down the pike. She had to have.

  The kid Tambor wanted me to kidnap? He was innocent. His only crime was having an older brother who couldn't gamble worth a damn. Besides, taking Micah back in one piece to the Mansion wasn't going to wind up with me doing ten-to-twenty in the pen.

  I nodded, a slow smile creeping onto my lips. “Tell you what,” I said, nodding to my room. “I got a place here. Why don't you spend the night and take a load off? Daddy's guys come sniffing around here, first place they're going to look is the front desk, and there ain't no way that sleezebag Jake's not gonna give you up.”

  She smiled broadly, swiping away a tear from her eye. “Yeah, Ford,” she said with a nod. “That'd be great. Thanks.”

  “Anytime, babe,” I said, stepping past her and leading the way up to my room.

  Maybe, I thought, Lady Luck was still smiling on me. Maybe.

  Chapter Seven

  Micah

  Who knew those old movies would come in handy? Or that bedsheets tied together really would work as a rope to get you down from the second story? Too bad I didn't have enough sheets to get me all the way to the ground.

  I ended up having to drop the last ten feet or so into the bushes, rolling over the soil and grass as I took the fall.

  “Dang it,” I breathed as I jumped up, brushing grass clippings and leaves from my jeans and shirt-shirt. Then, double dang it! I'd forgotten my wad of cash up in my room! All I had on me was a few bucks I'd stuffed in my jeans when I'd gone out for dinner with Kessa the other night.

  I nearly burst into tears as I stood there in the middle of the lawn, staring up at my open window, with the bedsheet hanging from it like a white flag of surrender.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn't have done this while I was so riled up from having watched Daddy's assault on Kessa. But then again, I hadn't had any time to waste. It was then, or never.

  I sniffled, looking around the lawn. I quickly remembered where I was and, cursing my stupidity and scatter-brainedness, ran out to the edge of the estate. If I really hoofed it, I'd figured at the time, I could make it somewhere where I could catch a ride, maybe even get a room and some place to stay. Maybe even find some help.

  A few miles, and two sore feet, later, and I was stumbling up to the motel. I saw Ford pull in as I was casing the place for a likely ride out of town, and I had an idea. He was a tough bruiser and looked like he'd been around the block a few times. Right then, more so than the first time I'd seen him.

  Maybe, just maybe, I could get him to help me bust Kessa out? The trick to getting him to go along, though, would be to get him to offer first. You always wanted someone to think an idea was theirs. And then, you just had to sweeten the deal and make it too hard to resist.

  And now, here I was, seated in Ford's room at the motel's little table, my hands crossed on my lap as he brought me a beer he'd been storing in the room's mini-fridge. He twisted the top off and set it down in front of me. I didn't generally like beer, but I knew I needed something to calm my nerves.

  “So,” he said, beer in hand as he eased into the chair across from me. “You wanna bust your friend Kessa out? What's your plan?”

  “I don't know, yet,” I admitted. “But I know if I can find someone else to help me, I can make it a twofer.”

  “A twofer?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  I took a sip off my beer, making a face. “Daddy's safe. I know the combination, and I've seen inside it. He must have close to a million bucks in there, all hard cash.”

  He laughed and shook his head, setting his beer aside. “A million bucks? You gotta be shitting me!”

  I gave a wide-eyed look. “No, I'm serious. He trusted me and Kessa the most out of his girls; we were his favorites before we disappointed him. He's so sure of himself, and sure we'd never do anything to cross him, that he let us stay in the room when he was putting away the cash at the end of the night.”

  He stroked his chin, a distant look on his face. “You said you needed help with this plan, didn't you? A second person, at least, to help you get in?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding and grabbing my beer. “You know someone?” I took a big drink, mentally crossing my fingers and hoping he was about to ask what I thought he was.

  He laughed. “Yeah. Me.”

  I shook my head as I swallowed down the booze. “No, Ford. I couldn't ask you. We hardly know each other, and you're already doing so much by putting me up here.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I ain't doing it just ’cause it's the right fucking thing, all right? I wanna get paid on this deal, too. I want half of what's in the safe.”

  “Half?” I asked, pretending I was unsure.

  “Half.”

  Sure, he could have half. My half would be more than enough to get me started in Hollywood, and be plenty to buy a whole new wardrobe. Still though, you don't want them to think things are too easy. “But it's my plan.”

  “Then no deal,” he said, taking another sip of beer.

  I frowned and sighed. “Fine,” I relented. “Fine, you can have half.”

  He nodded. “Good. Now, if you're so worried about putting me out by being here . . .” He trailed off as he patted his knee.
>
  Thoughts of our little tryst on the roadside filled my head, along with the memory of him shoving into me from behind. I suddenly wanted to see him naked, to see how his hard body really looked in the light. The time before, with him just pulling his jeans down, hadn't exactly given me a great view.

  Then, of course, there were the tools he was playing the game with. I wanted to get my hand around it, this time.

  I bit my lip as I looked at him, fluttering my eyelashes again. I set my beer aside. “What'd you have in mind, Ford?” I asked, my voice suddenly raspy and low with lust.

  “I could think of a couple things,” he said, his eyes heavy lidded with desire as he looked me up and down.