Page 20 of Truck

“Exactly, Cora. I help you, and you help me. It is how we watch out for each other.” I give Cora a bright smile, and I turn to look at Martin when he chuckles.

“Well, what time do you go on a Friday?” Martin asks when he stops laughing.

“I usually go mid-morning. I work in the evening so I like to get it done so I can have a rest for a while in the afternoon before I start my shift at four.”

Nodding, Martin speaks again. “Okay, we’ll both go with you Friday morning. We can test out how we get along. If it doesn’t work out, then we’ve given it a go. What do you say?”

“I’m okay with that, Martin. We’ll go in my vehicle, and then you won’t be paying that cab fare every time you get groceries,” I say in a no-nonsense tone, and Cora giggles as she side-eyes Martin.

I help them unpack before I head home, and then get a few chores done before I check the contract Thomas has emailed for me to peruse.

The contract is simple enough and nothing for me to worry about. The two clients I have worked with previously, so it’ll be a continuation rather than learning what is required. They both take my recommendations without argument, and it makes it easy for me to help them.

Mr. Bush is a sweetheart. He listens with such intensity that it can be unnerving. His son Clay, short for Clayton, is just as intense, but he has a streak of mischief which I’ve had to watch in the past. He likes to ask silly questions, and I have to work out which question is legit and which is a runaround.

Mrs. Silvermaine loves to talk, and I have to monitor time, or she’ll keep me far too long. I know she’s lonely, but I can’t spend two hours listening to her telling me the tales her cat, Tibby, has been getting into.

I digitally sign the contract which I amended to six months instead of the two years Thomas sneakily tried to tie me down to. Naughty Thomas, I think to myself with a smile.

Chapter 11

TRACKER

Walking into the shed, the two men are sitting on the metal chairs that are bolted to the floor. They are chained to the chair. Chains for a reason, and they will find out soon enough why.

“Well, well, let’s get this party started, shall we?” I ask in a cold, hard voice.

“What do you want to do first, Pres? Cut off their fingers, toes, dicks?” Cap asks me, and this is the ritual we run through for cases like this.

“No, no, no, we didn’t get inside. We stole nothing…” the one on the left speaks, and it is obvious he’s about to cry in his panic.

Finger, who has been standing on one side shifts his stance slightly, but it is enough for the two men to jump in fright, making the chains rattle a little.

“What were you doing at the gas station? We know you were trying to break in, but what were you trying to steal? Groceries?” Finger snarls as he steps close enough to the two that they both lean back in their seats, as far as they can at least.

Asshole two who so far has said nothing, mumbles to his buddy. “Say nothing.”

“Oh, let’s show these two what can happen when they don’t speak.” I open the door and step out of the shed. I stroll to the area where we have the acid pit and nod at Hot Rod who joined us two minutes ago.

“Open her up, Hot Rod,” Rides says as he joins us, and grabs one of the rods that pulls the cover from the acid pit.

“Oh, let me get something for my demonstration,” Finger chuckles as he disappears.

While Finger is finding what he wants to use for demonstration purposes, I watch as Cap and Scalpel who have appeared in the last few minutes, drag the two men still chained towards the pit.

“This happens to assholes we want rid of,” I say, keeping my voice in a bored manner. I calmly wait for Finger to come back and watch the two beg and show how cowardly they both are.

Finger returns while carrying a dead rat. I’m not asking where he found that, but I’m pleased to see the fucking thing is dead. Something I hate is rats, nasty things, but this one will serve a purpose at least.

“Watch closely because if you don’t answer our questions, I’m going to do this to you, in slow increments so you gradually disappear and are never seen again,” Finger wiggles the rat in front of the pair before slowly lowering it into the acid. Holding onto its tail as he squats at the side of the pit. Slowly Finger pulls the rat out, but only half of it appears.

“Ahhh, no, no, we’ll talk,” the asshole two now splutters through tears and snot.

“One chance before I throw you both into the pit. I’m not fucking about because I’ve better things to do than waste my time with you,” I snarl.

“We were told to break in, smash shit up, and get away,” asshole one stammers.

“Why? Who paid you to do it? Don’t think we are stupid and don’t know you were paid to do this shit,” I snarl once more.