Page 242 of G.O.D.S Omnibus
His wife’s scream echoes through the room, and his head whips to the stairs.
“See, I suggest you put that gun down and kick it this way so we can have a little chat.” I watch as he tosses up his options. “Or you could shoot me and pray that my friend doesn’t hear and blow your wife’s head off.”
“What the fuck do you want?” he spits, looking around the room. He spots Case, turning to point the gun at him, but Case just keeps walking to the front door and turns the bolt.
“Look what I found upstairs,” Chester says, coming down the stairs with a woman double our age. The snot and mascara running down her face has her looking worse for wear. “You know, you really shouldn’t leave your prized possessions unprotected. Just like those two teenagers.”
Just as he says teenagers, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
“Show him the video I just sent you,” Marlow says in my ear.
I retrieve my phone and hold it out for him to see. He steps closer to get a good look, and I’m presuming his children are on the screen.
“Don’t you dare fucking hurt them!” he yells, spittle flying from his mouth. Motherfucker got spit on my phone.
“We won’t as long as you do as we ask,” Chester says, pushing the woman towards her husband.
“Just do as they say,” she cries. “We don’t want them to hurt Billy, or rape me and Becca.”
“Rape?” I question. “Shit, this just escalated quickly. I prefer torture and lots of blood.”
Chester laughs. “Bitch, I wouldn’t willingly have sex with your old ass.”
“Then what do you want? We have money,” she says.
“Now that, I highly doubt,” Case quips, gesturing around the room. “Your husband needs to get rid of the gun and comes with us. If he is a good boy, he will be returned unharmed. We just want to have a little chat.”
“And if I don’t?” he asks, like he even has a choice in the matter.
“Then I’m afraid I will kill your wife in front of your eyes and then call my friend to pick your kids up from school and sell them into the sex trade. You will never see them again,” Chester says.
They have zero idea he is bluffing about the kids—the wife, I can’t say for sure with Chester. It could go either way. Most of the time, he wouldn’t hurt a woman, but when Jolie’s and our babies’ safety are on the line, he is a loose cannon.
“Just do what they want, Paul. They can’t hurt the kids.”
“Yes, Paul. I would do as we say, think quick,” I drawl. “I will hit the call button in three, two...”
He places the gun down and kicks it away from himself. We keep a close eye on Paul while Case moves in and grabs it, removing any bullets from the chamber. I move forward and grab his wife, moving her away from everyone else in the room. She screams like a damn banshee, and I uncap the needle Chester throws my way and stab it into her arm. She drops almost instantly into my arms, and I move her towards the couch, laying her down gently. This will keep her down for about an hour and remove most of her memory from today.
“Get a pen and paper and write your wife a note for when she wakes up. Tell her you have been called back into work, and you will see her and the kids later.”
Paul moves into the kitchen and opens a drawer, rummaging through it before finally pulling out a pen and paper. Scribbling down what we just said, he sticks it to the fridge like a good little boy.
He looks up, and I laugh. “Don’t bother whispering help to your cameras. We have taken them over and will loop the footage. Let’s get this show on the road, then.”
Chester grabs him before he can protest, and Case zip ties his hands together. We have a nice dark sack for his head once we get to the car—it might look a tad suspicious if he walks out of the house with it on his head.
“Don’t make a scene. Just walk with us to our car. We will take you to our holding cells and ask you a few questions. If you tell us what we need to know, you will be home in time for dinner tomorrow. If not, we will shoot you with your own gun and make it look like a suicide, and little Billy and Becca will grow up without a daddy.”
“Fuck you,” he seethes, more spittle flying from his mouth. He may like to open his mouth a lot, but he still follows the orders and trails Chester out of the house.
We make it down the road and to the car with no issues. Nothing to see here, people, just friends hanging out. Chester shoves him into the backseat, and I slip in next to him. He looks at me, and I poke my tongue at him and give it a wiggle. His face drops, and he shakes his head.
“I know who you are,” he says.
“Not the wisest thing to admit if you wanted your freedom,” Case replies, leaning back from the front seat. “And you only know what you have been led to believe.”
“Don’t worry, we probably won’t kill you—our girl won’t be happy if we do. But we can wipe a day of your memory or the entire thing. How much do you value the people in your life and the memories you have created?” I add for good measure.
