Page 20 of No Control
“Sorry, man,” I say, climbing out and shrugging. “Car trouble.”
Mason stares at me for a few beats, his eyes narrowing. “Hard to believe when I just saw you park there. And you know what? I’ve never seen you around here before either. You don’t live on this road—and it’s a dead end. So what the hell are you doing?”
“Aw,” I glance around us, frowning. “Guess I got a little turned around.”
Mason lingers there, studying me. His eyes are bloodshot, and he reeks of a bar. “You were with Lydia, weren’t you?”
Wow, jumping to some big conclusions.
“I’m sorry, who? Are you okay?” I almost laugh, his face reddening.
“Who the hell are you?” He steps forward, nearing the edge of my personal space. “Her side piece?”
Okay, now I’m laughing.
“What the fuck is so funny?” he roars, lunging at me similarly to how he did Lydia. Mason’s not agile, given the drinks and the fatigue. I dip and raise the butt of my gun, nailing him right in the occipital nerve on the back of his head. His body goes limp, and I catch him, whipping open the backseat and shoving him inside.
He won’t be out for long, so I quickly zip-tie his wrists and ankles and then slam the door. Now I have to get rid of the loser's truck.
What a pain in the ass.
I blow out a breath and head for Mason’s vehicle. It reeks of cigarette smoke inside, and one look around tells me he’s been drinking…a lot. There’re crushed beer cans on the floorboard, along with an open one in the cupholder.
“This is a little much, Mason,” I mutter, slamming the driver’s side door shut. I have two options for this truck. I can risk driving past Lydia’s to that abandoned trailer…Or I can risk driving around looking for a place to stash it until I can get a crew here to do my dirty work.
I run my tongue along my bottom lip. Never mind. I see a third choice. There’s no fence along the shoulder, only brush. It’s not the best decision, but I stomp the gas, and send the truck through it. This might leave evidence that’s not on our side, but…
It’ll be fine. I’ve done worse.
I shift it to four-wheel-drive and run deeper into the woods, careful not to bust the radiator or anything stupid like that. I’m already gonna hear about this, but I’ll enjoy it all first. I cut the engine once I know I’m deep enough it won’t catch any obvious attention. I can have a crew here overnight.
As long as Lydia doesn’t turn me down again.
Damnit. That could complicate things. I don’t give it much thought though, slipping out and heading back toward the road. I didn’t think it all the way through when I left the Tahoe parked across the road. If Lydia decides to leave, this could be a problem.
But as I step out of the thick woods, the road is clear. I head back to my rental, pausing to see what the entrance looks like. I give myself an approving nod. That fixes that. You can’t even tell anything has been driven into the woods. The stemmy trees popped right back up from where I had mowed them over.
Now to deal with this dipshit.
Rage and excitement flood my system as I climb into the driver’s seat and peek back at Mason. He’s still passed out, which is much to my benefit. I don’t want to listen to his mouth while I move him. I drive past Lydia’s house, unbothered this time. The hard part is done.
I glance down at my watch.
Fifty-five minutes to finish.
So much for having too much fun. I turn down the grass covered road, making my way back to the trailer, parking just out front.
Well, here we go.
Ten minutes later, he’s tied off to a chair in the middle of the abandoned kitchen. It’s really a benefit for me that the old lady left her furniture. It’s like everything here is meant to be, falling into place like fate.
If you believe in such a notion.
I lean against the kitchen bar, taking in the drabby components of the mobile home. It hasn’t been updated since the nineties, but I have to give it to the lady, she kept the place clean. It’s just dusty from no one living here.
Well, and it smells like a nursing home and death, but I’ve smelled worse.
“What the fuck.” A groan grabs my attention. “Where am I?”
