Page 14 of Baja
Clearwater’s face twists into a sneer, and he jerks her toward him, his hand clamping around her neck as he opens the door. “You’re not going anywhere.” He forces her inside the house.
Salem growls. “We’re moving in.”
With weapons drawn, we move out of the trees, crossing the lawn quickly and silently. Clearwater doesn’t notice us until I’m standing right behind him, pressing the cold end of my gun against the back of his head. “Touch her again, motherfucker, and I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”
“The fuck—” He reaches beneath his jacket, and the glint of metal is all I see before instinct takes over. Clearwater spins and lunges forward, gun raised. I knock his wrist sideways, and the weapon clatters across the floor. He swings at me, and I shift, avoiding the blow, and slam the grip of my gun into his jaw. He staggers backward. Recovering, he lunges at me again. I take aim, and he comes face to face with the barrel end of my gun, stopping him dead in his tracks.
The overhead lights come on, and Clearwater raises his hands. A few feet away, I notice the blonde woman passed out on the floor, lying on her side.
I keep my gun aimed at the motherfucker’s head and glare at him. “Is the only way you can get your dick wet by druggin’ innocent woman, you sick fuck?” Salem doesn’t hide his disdain.
Clearwater sneers. “Fuck you.”
Salem delivers a fist to the side of his face.
“Fuck!” Clearwater bellows. “Do you know who I am?” His voice is a low, venomous hiss. “You don’t want to mess with me. One fucking phone call and I can make all of you disappear.”
“Big threat comin’ from a soon-to-be-dead man,” Salem taunts.
“Listen closely. I don’t know who sent you, but trust me when I say I hold far more value alive than I ever could dead.” He gasps, desperation lacing his voice. “What do you want? Name your price.”
Salem’s icy stare bores into Clearwater. “Your fate is already sealed, paid in full.”
My hand tightens around the grip of my gun, eager to end this creature’s pathetic life.
Clearwater’s eyes bulge as the weight of his fate crashes down on him. “You won’t get away with this,” he warns, his voice trembling.
“You won’t be around to find out.” Salem’s voice drips like poison sliding off his tongue.
Salem looks at me.
Without hesitation, my finger coils tightly around the trigger, putting a bullet in his head, sealing the motherfucker’s fate.
A beat of silence passes before it’s broken.
“What about the woman?” Harlem asks.
Laredo walks over and kneels beside her. “Her pulse is steady. There’s no tellin’ what he gave her.” He looks at Salem. “We can’t leave her here.” He sighs. “I’ll take her to Celeste,” Laredo offers. “I’ll have to take the fucker’s car and ditch it after.”
Celeste is a club friend, mainly through Laredo’s connection with her. She’s a doctor at Salem Medical. Off the record, she’s helped us on several occasions.
We share a silent understanding, exchanging glances that convey our intentions. We clean up the area, methodically eliminating any signs that we were here. We take a moment to survey the surroundings one last time, making sure not a single piece of evidence is left behind—no forgotten item, no overlooked detail—before we blend into the shadows.
Laredo lifts the woman off the floor, and I dig through the dead man’s pockets, retrieve his car keys, and toss them to Laredo.
Eager to put time and distance between us and the crime scene, we head out of the house. Laredo puts the woman in the car’s back seat, gets behind the wheel, and backs out of the driveway.
The rest of us break into a jog, racing across the yard and weaving through the trees. We retrace our steps to the spot where we ditched our bikes. We hop on our rides and hit the road, putting as much distance as we can between ourselves and the dead man before we finally pull into the hospital parking lot. Laredo slides out of the car without missing a beat, looking tense as he pulls the unconscious woman from the back seat and strides through the emergency room doors, carrying her inside like he owns the place.
We linger outside, waiting in silence because no one is in the mood for conversation.
A heartbeat later, Laredo’s back. “I need one of you to leave your bike here and follow me in Celeste’s car. After we take care of Clearwater’s vehicle, I’ll need a lift back to my ride.”
Juneau jumps at the chance. “I’ll do it.”
Laredo flings a set of keys his way. “That black Corvette over there.” Laredo gestures toward it.
“Sweet.” Juneau jogs off.
