Page 42 of Cougar

We don’t have a lot of storage lockers here, but checking them all is tedious when no one else is here. I’ve checked over half, and all of them are empty. Bigfoot, the piece of shit I’m going to enjoy murdering, asshat came here the most, according to Knuckles. There has to be a reason, and I re-fucking-fuse to leave until I find it.

Twenty minutes later, I have three containers left. Because it’s my luck, I’m sure the last one I check will have what I’m looking for, but when I get to the door of the next in line, there’s a lock. None of the others have had any locks on the outside. This is it.

I pull my lock-picking kit out of my pocket and get to work. It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this, so I don’t get it right away. If someone is in here, I’ve more than likely alerted them. My only saving grace is I should be fine because they’re locked in. If someone is in here, he was keeping them hostage.

Because he’s on The Company’s payroll, I work harder to get this open. Knowing a child can be in here, scared, dirty, hungry, or all of those things lights a fire under my ass. By some form of magic, the lock clicks. I rush to get the lock off and throw both doors open.

The scent hits me first. Whoever is hiding in this dark as fuck container has been in here for a while. I want to pull my gun because I can’t see shit, but I refuse to scare whoever is in here even more. I take one step and then another, and a light flickers on. It isn’t bright. It’s a dull orange, but it lights up the container just enough.

There.

I see knees and brown hair in the back corner, huddled into a ball. Their head is facing down. I continue to move slowly and decide I need to talk to them so they know I’m not here to hurt them.

“Hey,” I softly say, “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.” They slowly lift their head, “I’m here to—Mallory?” I stop dead in my tracks. I only have a few more steps to get to her, but I know who she is. We’ve been looking for her. “You’re alive? Holy shit. I’m sorry,” I immediately say when she winces. “I’m sorry. We’ve been looking for you, Mallory. I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.”

She scoffs and turns her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t blame you, given your current situation.” This gets her attention back to me. “But I have no reason to lie.”

“You look like him. I don’t believe you.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know his name, but he wore the same vest you have on.”

Bigfoot. She’s talking about Bigfoot. “I know who you’re talking about. My club and I, we didn’t know he was keeping you. We found out tonight, and we’ve handled it. I promise you’re safe.” I take another step toward her and hold out my hand. “Please come with me. Let me get you out of here.”

“Why should I believe you? Do you know how long I’ve been in here? How many times I’ve had to look at that vest? You’re my enemy.”

“I’m not,” I tell her sincerely. I take a deep breath, thinking of how I can prove to her I’m here to help her. After a moment, I come up with the dumbest plan I’ve ever had in my life. Grabbing my gun, I don’t miss her flinch. I turn it so I’m holding it by the barrel. “Here. Take it.”

“What? What fucking kind of trick is this?”

I shake my head, “It’s not a trick. I’m giving you an out. I’m trying to help you. If I do anything that makes you think otherwise, shoot me. Get away. Or, take it knowing I’m giving it to you so you’ll walk out of here with me, and I can get you somewhere safe. I’m not your enemy, Mallory.”

She sits still for a moment before her hand comes up, and she grabs the handle. My asshole tightens as I look into the business end of my gun from the teenager on the floor. But I do nothing other than offer my hand to her again, indicating I want to help her up.

“I…. I suppose going with you can’t be worse than this when I have a gun in my hand, right?”

“Right.”

She places her hand in mine, and I pull her up. I want to wrap her in my arms and hold her like I would my daughter. I want her to know she’s safe now, and this shit isn’t gonna happen anymore, but I don’t. She isn’t my daughter, but she is my responsibility.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay,” she whispers and wipes the tears from her eyes while her other hand points the gun at the floor. Baby steps, Theo. Baby steps.

Eighteen

Unknown

“What the fuck?” I mutter to myself as I pace back and forth.

What happened that Bigfoot’s cover was blown? I watched them take him down at a family party! There were children here at one point. There was no reason for his cover to blow. After all the brothers left, I started looking around and thinking about everything I needed to clean up to keep this intact. A laundry list of items I need to make disappear before whatever technique Butcher will use makes Bigfoot sing. Because he isn’t as strong as he thinks he is.

I look at the big house and think about all the women and children in there. There is a bit of chaos where the kids outnumber the women. I can easily slip in with little detection and walk right out with the baby.

The missing baby may make them doubt Bigfoot and then deduce a coerced confession. I need to get him out of there and make him The Company’s problem. He knows too much. They can decide what to do with him, and my cover stays intact. At least with one of us still around these people, we can grab the merchandise we need.

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