The Blood Barn (Book #2 in trilogy)

Epilogue: The Taste Of Blood

My eyes shot open as cold water poured over my head and down my bare chest. The room was dark, but I knew I wasn't alone. Tape covered my mouth as I breathed through my nose, and my hands and feet were tied to the chair I sat in as well. At that moment I was glad I was still wearing underwear, but I still felt exposed.

I didn't know who was there with me, and all I remembered was being woken up that night and knocked out cold. The side of my head still hurt from when I was punched, which meant I hadn't been unconscious for too long.

From the shadows a figure formed. The person walked toward me as a light flicked on, revealing I was sitting in the living room. A man with dark features reached forward and quickly ripped the duct tape from my mouth, which hurt since I had still been growing a beard, although short.

"Ow," I groaned as I clenched my eyes shut. "Fuck."

"Sorry about that, Sammy," apologized an accented voice. It was definitely European, perhaps Italian.

"How the fuck do you know my name?" I asked, hoping that my night wasn't going to end in my death.

"I know a lot about you," the man replied. "I also know about your wife, Marta."

I stared darts at him through the dimly lit room as I noticed at least one other suited man in the room with him.

"That is no way to look at your new boss, Sammy." He made a subtle movement with his left hand.

Unsure of what would happen next, I was caught off guard by another man coming up from behind me. I looked up at him, not seeing his cocked fist before it was too late. It connected with the side of my face, my head snapping to the side.

I coughed as I began to taste blood. "Ow," I wheezed.

"Enough," commanded the man with the accent. "So, Sammy, are you ready to listen?"

"I don't really have a choice now do I?" I bit my lower lip as I sucked on more blood.

He grinned. "You are smart, Sammy, much like Marta. But unfortunately she is still in prison and you are not."

"Where are you going this?" I asked in a low tone.

"Ah, yes, the important question. Marta has an unpaid debt. And since she will not be able to pay it off for quite some time due to prison and recent developments, you are going to pay it off."

I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I knew I would either get punched again, or worse if I refused. Licking my lips as I bit my lower one again, I knew I had no choice.

"And how exactly am I to do that?" The question needed to be asked, but I feared the answer.

"I am glad you asked, Sammy. It is quite simple. You are going to be my new driver. There will be no killing, but you will get your hands dirty."

"No killing at all?" I asked.

He chuckled, turning sideways to reveal a long nose and v-shaped hairline. "Are you worried about getting blood on your hands? Because from what I was told, you already have."

Remaining silent, all I could think about was the one man I shot that night when Marta was home. I wasn't certain if killing a man in self-defense classified as getting blood on my hands, but I would assume the answer is yes.

The man smiled. "It is okay, Sammy," he assured me. "I know you are not a natural born killer. Marta is not either. However, I did turn her into one. Lucky for you, I do not need two."

My eyes wandered for a moment. "So that's it?" I asked, peering back over at him. "I'm just going to drive you around?"

I waited for his response as he laughed, then let out a sigh. His brow lowered as he replied, "More or less, Sammy. And the occasional delivery too."

Slowly nodding, I accepted the deal. "Fine." I wasn't sure how often he would call upon me, but I was just going to roll with it and see what happened.

As he took one step closer he advised, "Do not quit your day job though. I will call on this"—he held up a small black cell phone—"or I will just show up at random with the car. Until then, do not go to a place where I cannot find you." His words sounded like a threat, but as long as I complied, I had nothing to worry about.

I watched as he set the phone down on the nightstand next to the couch. It made me realize that the coffee table had been moved out of the way for them to tie me up in the middle of the living room.

"Well, Sammy, your orientation is complete." He walked over to the front door as the other man opened it, the sound of crickets audible. Turning his head to face me he added, "Welcome to the circle, and congratulations. On both the position andbecoming a father."

What? I asked internally, my eyes opening wider.

The ropes around my limbs were cut off one by one as I watched him leave the house. Who I presumed to be the bodyguard or driver stood by the door as the other man walked out with the knife still in his hand.

Stunned by what had just happened, I watched the two men leave and the front door close. Not only was I now part of Martin's old circle, apparently I was going to be a dad.