Page 73 of Bama's Babe


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My heart pounds like a war drum.

Dracus signals with a quick nod, and we’re off. No hesitation.

“Go!” Tex barks, and we surge forward.

Blake looks up, eyes wide with shock but too late to react. He’s ours.

“Grab him!” Dracus commands.

I take the lead, my fist smashing into Blake’s jaw.

He staggers back, disoriented.

Bolt’s right there, landing a punch to his gut.

Tex grabs him by the arms while I drive my knee into his solar plexus.

The air rushes out of him in a wheeze.

“Lights out,” Dracus sneers, delivering a final blow to Blake’s temple.

He crumples like a rag doll, unconscious before he hits the ground.

“Get him in the van,” Bolt grunts, lifting one of Blake’s limp arms.

Tex and I grab the other side.

He’s dead weight, heavier than he looks, but adrenaline makes him light.

“Move it,” Dracus urges. “Let’s get out of here.”

We haul Blake to the van, shoving him inside with zero care.

He sprawls awkwardly on the cold metal floor, still out cold.

“Drive,” Dracus orders, sliding the door shut behind us.

Tex jumps into the driver’s seat, and the engine roars to life.

We pull out of the parking lot, leaving no trace behind.

“How long till we get there?” I ask, glancing at the rearview mirror.

Blake’s unmoving form is a grim reminder of what’s coming next.

“Not long,” Tex replies, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Good,” I mutter, clenching my fists.

The rage in me simmers, waiting for its next release.

We ride in tense silence, the hum of the tires against asphalt the only sound.

“Almost there,” Tex announces, turning onto a dirt path that leads to the back of the property.

The lake looms ahead, dark and foreboding.

“Wake him up when we stop,” Dracus says, his voice low and menacing. “He needs to know why this is happening.”

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