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I pulled out my cell phone as I headed for the building but hesitated. Did I really want to call the cops? That would involve talking to someone, maybe even going down to the station to fill out a report. Getting home around dawn.
Ugh.
On second thought, I’d just scare the piss out of the person in my office. I had a barrel of rebar rods sitting next to the office trailer. I grabbed one of the shorter ones. If the intruder got frisky, I’d give them a few whacks, enough to show that I meant business.
Light spilled from the entrance to my office as the door stood ajar. Not even trying to hide. I stepped in to see a skinny dude with a nose ring rifling through my desk.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, asshole?” I pointed my weapon and waved it menacingly.
Bloodshot eyes rose from the drawer to me. The lip curled upward. “Where’s the money, bitch?”
I arched a brow. “Big words for a little man.”
“Not that little.” When he rose from his crouch, he stood taller than me, but heavy drug use had emaciated him. His features were drawn tight; his eyes streaked red and sickly looking in the fluorescent lighting. His short sleeves showed the bruised and splotched flesh where he injected his arms.
A druggie, tweaking hard—jonesing for his next hit. Needing cash and desperate for it. “Leave. Now. There’s no money.”
“Liar! Hand over the cash, and you won’t get hurt.” He came around the side of the desk, and I retreated to the door. I wanted to lure him outside to give myself more room to swing.
“Go find another place to rob.” I stood in the doorway, rod extended, debating if I should run or not.
Someone punching the back of my knee and sending me tumbling took that decision from me.
Only in that moment did I realize that the tweaker hadn’t come alone.
CHAPTER2
As I buckledand fell to the ground, a punch to the head knocked me sideways. Before I could recover, the second thief wrenched the rod from my hand.
I popped to my feet and whirled in time to take a closed fist to the face. I reeled, stumbling hard enough that I lost my balance and hit the ground again, hard, the breath knocked out of me, my brains scrambled. The intruders stood on either side of me, their shapes blurring from two to four.
“Where’s the money, cunt?” The guy who’d stolen my rod stood over me, menacing. He wore a dark hoodie and had a bit more heft to his frame than his friend.
At that point, even I knew better than to fight over cash. “Desk drawer, under the receipt tray. There’s only a bit of petty cash.”
Skinny ran back inside and then re-emerged, waving a handful of bills. “Found it!”
Hefty didn’t appear impressed. “That’s just a decoy. I’ll bet she’s got more stashed.” He jabbed my belly with the end of the rod. “Where’s the rest?”
“That’s all of it.”
“Liar!” The whack of the bar drew a sharp gasp of pain.
Before Hefty could swing again, I grabbed the metal rod. We tugged, back and forth. I lost, no match for drugged, adrenaline-fueled strength. He ripped the rod from my hands, splitting open my left palm.
The sight of the blood widened Skinny’s eyes. “We should get out of here.”
His friend didn’t agree. “Not before she coughs up the cash. Where is it?”
“I have no more money.”
“Lying cunt!” He swung.
I raised my arm in time to block the blow. Sharp pain made me wonder if he’d broken my arm. I rolled before he could strike again and popped to my feet.
“Joey. Stop. We got enough for a hit.” Skinny tried to stop his buddy.
“Says you. I think she’s got enough hidden for more than a measly pinch each.”
