BLOODLINES, BLOOD MONEY & BLOODSHED (Episode 1: A Family Apart)

Chapter 4: Drayton Kincaid

The Georgia summer sun was pounding down menacingly on the trailer park as the two tented out black Audi A8s pulled into it. From underneath their tires gravel crackled and sprayed. Pulling up in front of one trailer in particular, they both parked outside its door and killed their engines. Moments later, several men of Russian descent stepped out each vehicle dressed in black suits, one of them obviously high ranking of some sort. After looking around, they headed up the steps of the trailer to the door while pulling out guns.

"Oh, baby, fuck me!" a woman could be heard screaming from inside the trailer.

The high ranking gentleman of the group nodded to his men. Then...

BOOM!!!!!

They kicked the door in.

"Jesus frickin' Christ!" a redneck white man yelled from the couch while caught in the act of fucking his wife on the couch.

"What the Hell?" the woman yelled covering her breasts.

The men, actually Russian gangsters, walked casually into the crappily furnished trailer with their guns pointed at the couple. The leader, Abram Gavlic, entered last. When he did, the eyes of the couple widened in fear. They knew exactly who he was. Standing at the doorway for a moment, his eyes surveyed the trailer's interior: old cheap furniture, unemptied trash can, sink full of dishes, empty beer bottles throughout. With the smell of mothballs and old cigarette smoke entering his nostrils, he then looked at the couple. After several moments, with no words spoken, he unbuttoned his suit coat, grabbed a chair and sat down.

"Mr. Gavlic, I was just gettin' ready to call you," Jake, the redneck caught literally with his pants not only down but completely off, lied. Then looking at his naked wife underneath him, needing her to cosign, he said, "Wasn't I, baby? Tell 'em."

"Yup, he sure was," his wife Peggy said laying there with her legs wide open.

Both spoke in heavy southern drawls.

Mr. Gavlic wasn't buying it. Crossing his legs, he simply stared at them while surrounded by a trailer littered with empty beer cans and liquor bottles among other things. Jerry Springer played on a nearby television.

"Honest, Mr. Gavlic," Jake said. "I was really getting' ready to call you. I swear on my momma."

"Is that right?" Abram finally said, a Russian accent lacing his words.

"Yup."

"And when you were going to call, were you going to notify me that you'd changed trailer parks? Or better yet, that you'd changed towns?"

"About that, Mr. Gavlic, see what had happened was-

"Where's my money?"

"Huh?"

"My money."

"Let me get up and go put some pants on. Then I'll explain what happened." He attempted to raise up off of Peggy with all intentions of getting to the bedroom to get his .45 Magnum revolver.

"Remain where you are," Abram told him.

One of the gunmen then swatted Jake across the face with the butt of a gun so hard it knocked blood spraying from his mouth into Peggy's face.

"Oww, man," Jake groaned holding his bleeding mouth in pain. "I think you knocked out a tooth."

"Where is the money?" Abram asked again.

"I don't have it yet."

"You don't have it."

"No, but if you give us just a li'l mo' time, we can get it."