The Book of Brooke

Chapter 12

As I walk up to the front of the house I look back at the car several times to make sure that they're still parked and aren't going to abandon me at this house. When I'm sure that they're staying, I swallow my nerves and raise my fist, knocking on the door.

After three knocks, nobody answers and so I knock again, this time louder and harder.

Still nobody.

One more time, I knock so hard that I think my knuckles are going to break against the door.

"Hey!" I call out.

Finally, a big burly man opens the door. He's big and tall and has a long, full beard but no hair. He's built like a professional wrestler, meaty and gigantic. I have to tilt my head all the way up to get a good look at his face. He's shirtless with a beer belly and a can in his hand, thick black hair like a coat of fur on his chest.

I can see two other men in the house behind him with scowls on their faces. One of them is smoking a cigarette and the other is doing a line of what looks to be cocaine off of a coffee table.

"Who are you?" The man asks. He's got a thick russian accent and a deep, growly voice.

"My name is Brooke." I say, trying to sound intimidating. "You have a package for me."

The Russian man looks behind him to the others and says something in Russian that I can't understand. He then looks back to me and smiles a big wide smile, but there's something sinister underneath it that I can't really place.

"Right. Come on in, Brooke." He says my name like I stepped on his toe, but moves out of the doorframe and lets me in anyways. I'm not sure if it was such a good idea going inside.

The inside of the house is dirty and musty. The carpet is wrecked and ruined and it smells like gasoline and urine. The walls are yellowed and the room is filled with cigarette smoke and there are cobwebs and insects everywhere.

"It's just in the basement." The Russian man tells me, turning towards where i'm standing. He looks at me straight in the eye and takes a sip from his beer can. "Why don't you go down there and get it?"

Something strikes me as off about this situation, and so my instincts kick in.

"I don't think I should." I say firmly. "I'll stay up here and you can go get the package."

The Russian man laughs a loud, hearty laugh.

"Oh, oh! Little Brooke thinks she's the one in charge here!" The Russian man laughs more and his friends join him. Soon the room is filled with laughter just as much as it's filled with smoke. I don't laugh, however. Instead, I'm looking around and panicking because I think I'm going to die here. "Is that right?"

I feel a heavy hand grab the back of my neck and the Russian man pulls me towards him. I don't know where got it, but all of a sudden there's a gun in his hand and he's forcing my mouth open. He shoves the gun inside of my mouth and I can taste the tip of it on my tongue. It's hot and salty, like he's been keeping it in his waistband.

"How about you go to the basement now?" He asks, his hot, disgusting breath hitting my ear.

I wince at the smell of him. He doesn't seem like he's showered in weeks, or maybe he's just that filthy that soap and water don't work, but the stench is so bad that I have to breathe through my mouth.

"Let her go, Igor." I hear a voice say.

It takes me a second before I realize that Blackjack and his goons are also in the house now and Blackjack has a gun to the back of the Russian man's head. Igor, that must be his name.