Page 38 of Stranger Gifts

“How? How would you know that? Phone tapping is illegal!”

“That’s what you’re hanging your defense on?” smirked Miller. “I doubt that will hold much water in a court of law. You called him, begging for help to get out of wherever you are.”

He just stared at them, unsure of what they’d heard or not heard.

“You guys are really screwed,” said Angel. “Offering women, motorcycles, and cash to Ferdinand. He’s not a guy you should fuck around with.”

“And yet, they did,” smirked Gabe.

“Do you know how long I’ve been an attorney in this God-forsaken state? Thirty years. Thirty damn years and I can barely keep up with my mortgage and credit card bills.”

“You should learn to live within your means,” said Angel.

“Very funny. Men like Clayton and Ferdinand break every law in the books and never get caught, never go to jail, and accumulate more wealth than you could possibly imagine. I love my daughter, but she’s an ungrateful little bitch most days. Nothing I do is enough, or good enough. When Clayton offered me two-hundred thousand for her, I jumped at the shot of finally having some money and some peace.”

Angel stared at him with hatred, while the other men opened and closed their fists. Bolchek turned to see his daughter standing there, no tears, no words, just staring.

“Jesus. You have to admit, Samantha, you’re a fucking demanding young woman. It’s never enough for you. Private schools, designer handbags, your own damn credit card.”

“You gave me that. I didn’t ask for it,” she said calmly. He just shook his head. Samantha looked at the men standing around her father. “I don’t ever want to see him again. I don’t want to know what happens to him. The only place I might see you is in the courtroom because I will testify against you.”

She walked away and he just stared at the back of his daughter. It wouldn’t matter, when he left here he was going to see Killer and everything would be back on track.

“I’m leaving,” he said trying to shove through the wall of testosterone.

“Oh, you’re leaving alright. But we get to decide how.”

It was nearly midnight when Sam Bolchek rolled over and found himself staring at a pile of bison shit. He moved in the other direction and rolled into the pile of elephant shit.

His head was pounding, splitting in two as he looked around the space.

“No. No, where am I,” he frowned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Killer. “I should fucking gut you right here.”

“No! No, I can help. They have Samantha and the others. They even have the nun.”

“Who?”

“Those men. The ones that attacked you.”

“Where are they?” Sam looked up and down the road, back and forth, pointing, then pulling back and pointing again. “Where the fuck are they?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean, I know but I didn’t get to see where they took us and where I came from. I don’t know. It was like a small subdivision with lots of houses.”

“A subdivision? You’ve lost your fucking mind, Sam and I don’t need that right now.” He lifted his weapon, pointing the gun at his head.

“No! I can help.”

“No you can’t. Only one person can help me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Hey, Jenna?” called Sly walking into the cafeteria. “You’ve had a couple of voicemails on your cell phone from a Sister Frances. She says she needs to speak with you.”

“I don’t really want to speak with her,” she said shaking her head.

“Then you don’t have to,” said Nash.

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