Page 7 of Hush (Fighting Fate)

The gun man looked a little older than acne man - maybe late twenties, and didn’t have anywhere near as many tattoos, but the thin jagged scar that ran across one cheek, from his temple to his chin, coupled with his number one shaved head, was enough to scare the crap out of me.

And the look he gave me was enough to make me want to vomit. “Who the fuck are you?!” he growled.

I was so worried I was going to be sick, I didn’t realize tears had started escaping. I honestly thought I was going to pee myself. “Ken sent me,” I said in a weak voice. “He said to tell you that Tom OD’d, and that I was his replacement.”

His jaw clenched as he glared at me. He nodded to acne man. “Search her.”

Acne man instantly grabbed Ken’s bag, tossing it to one of the other guys, then pushed me harder against the wall, his hands groping over every inch of my clothing, pulling out my cell and purse and tossing them as well. Then he continued his search under my clothes, his hands groping over my skin, and under my bra, making me want to scream. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to whimper too loudly.

His hands disappeared, and I heard his voice beside my ear. “She’s clean. Very clean. I would very much like to make her a little dirty.”

I shuddered with repulsion, trying hard not to look back at his vulgar grin. Instead, I placed the bravest expression I could conjure on my face, and stared at the gun man.

Without taking his eyes, or his gun, off me, he called to one of the other men. “Mitch. What are we looking at?”

The guy who’d caught the bag – Mitch, looked up at me before he answered. He had a shaved head just like the gun man, the stubble a pure white color, and his eyes were a strange yellowy, brown. Even though he was wearing a shirt, I could tell he had a lot of ink. I could see swirling patterns that ran the entire length of both his arms, and one that snaked down the side of his neck, disappearing under the collar of his shirt. He also had a piercing in his eyebrow – a silver bar that moved every time he frowned, which seemed to be a lot as he gazed at me, and a ring in his bottom lip.

“It’s definitely Ken’s bag,” he said. “Looks as though he wants more than the usual five bags today though.”

Gun man glowered at me for a few more minutes, then lowered his gun. “Either Ken doesn’t give a shit about you, or you’re really fucking stupid,” he mumbled before turning to a short, stocky guy with dirty blonde hair. “Davo, I want you to go and explain to Ken how much I fucking hate surprises.”

With wide eyes, I watched as Davo took a gun out from under his shirt, checked it for bullets then strode out the door.

Acne man still had me virtually pinned against the wall. I could feel his repulsive breath on my cheek as his hand brushed against my boob. “TJ’s gonna be a while, so I think you and I should go and have some fun while we wait…”

His hand r

eached towards my face, and I went to jerk away from him, but an arm reached between us, shoving against acne man’s chest. He stumbled away from me, his head snapping up in fury.

The guy with the shaved head – Mitch, stood glaring at him. “It’s my turn, Pock,” he said in a low, menacing voice.

Acne man – Pock, puffed his chest out, rising up to his full height, which was still a couple of inches short of Mitch’s. “Like fuck it is! You’re never interested in the fresh meat! You can’t just start now because some hot piece of ass comes along!”

Mitch wedged himself between me and Pock, pushing me back in the process. “I can, and I am,” he said dangerously. “It’s my turn, and you know it.”

Although I couldn’t see Mitch’s face, I could tell by the way Pock’s eyes narrowed that he must’ve looked like he meant business. Glancing over towards the gun man - who I assumed was TJ, I saw him watching me with amusement.

Eventually Pock sneered, mumbling some obscenities under his breath before he shoved Mitch’s shoulder with his own, and stormed from the room.

TJ laughed loudly, the sudden noise making me jump. “Well, that was interesting! Have fun, man,” he said, slapping Mitch playfully on his back.

Mitch turned to me, his face still molded into a scowl. “Come on,” he grumbled, grabbing hold of my upper arm and pulling me towards a set of stairs.

“What? No!” I said, immediately pulling away from him.

His hand tightened around my arm and he pulled harder. Terror like I’d never felt before hit me with its full force, and I started thrashing wildly, trying in vain to get free of his grasp.

His hand tightened even more and I felt myself pulled sideways, my balance completely thrown. I stumbled, trying to catch myself, but then there were arms coming around me and I was being hoisted over his shoulder as he began stomping up the stairs.

“No!” I screamed. “Please. Let me go!” My voice broke as I kicked and screamed, tears of fear falling down my face.

I heard TJ laugh again from somewhere downstairs before I found myself suddenly standing again. I spun, ready to run, only to see Mitch shutting a door and locking it behind him.

Oh god.

Chapter 6

Noah

---