Vindictive (Complete)

I

    I hope you all enjoy my first, completed book! I’m sorry if you find any spelling/grammar errors, I tried my best to fix all I could find. I hope you enjoy, writing this was so much fun and this book means a lot to me!

    Just like a fire slowly going dark, the sunlight drops from the horizon. Howling from the desert wind constantly surrounds the grey van, along with small thuds from flying rocks. The quietest noise is also the most upsetting for everyone around; Whimpering.
    “She won’t stop will she?” Mark, the bald driver, shakes his head while keeping his eyes on the road.
    “We will be in and out. Drop her off for the good shit then we go home. Quit your bitching.” Tomas mutters with his eyes sealed shut.
    Tomas Lopez is a thirty year old, short, hispanic man. His tattoos circle around his body, stopping at his neck and hands. He is a handsome man, but ever since he grew his beard it’s harder to tell. Despite his height, he still holds his own and makes most men beg for their life. The reason he is here, on a few hours of sleep and after a long day is the same reason he always comes. He needs money to support his dying mother, and as he always says, family comes first.
    “Why can’t we just stick with what we know?” Charlie closes his eyes, feeling upset.
    “I know,” Tomas sighs, “As I said, in and out. We do as we’re told.”
    Twenty-four year old Charlie Cooper is a tan white man. He is a little taller than Tomas but is still considered short. He has dirty blonde hair and a few tattoos on his arms. The reason Charlie is here, doing something he hates is the same as he always is. He needs the money to pay for his drug abuse. He followed after his parents and started taking drugs young. After a few years he started selling to afford it all, at sixteen. His younger brother Markus took after his older brother, and overdose. Charlie blames himself every day.
    The van hits a large bump when turning and the woman on the floor makes a loud cry. Charlie looks down and her head is still in the bag, with a gag in her mouth. He knows she must be starving and dying of thirst, along with the pain from being beaten. He looks away and locks eyes with Tomas who is looking at him with an agitated glance.
    “Just stop looking at her!” Tomas closes his eyes again, tired of Charlie.
    Charlie looks out the window and tries to ignore her. He hates human trafficking but he does whatever Robert tells him. Headlights appear through the hills down the road, they have arrived.
    “Tomas.”
    “Fucking finally,” Tomas opens his eyes and gets ready, “Remember to make this quick. Trade the bitch and get our shit.” 
The van stops and Charlie slides open the door for Tomas and the woman. Tomas drops her off in the sand, on her knees. Mark comes around and faces along with them, sweating lightly. Three men surround the dim white truck with glowing headlights. Two asians and one black with a buzz cut. The black man walks up and smiles, looking down at the woman.
    “Ah yes, there she is.” He mutters looking down at her.
    One of the asians have a rifle, which alarms Charlie.
    “What we came for?” Tomas tells him seriously.
    The black man looks behind at the men and they pull out a black duffel bag, and toss it into the sand below.
    “Let me see her, her beautiful face.” He keeps his gaze on the bag upon her head.
    Sweat begins to drop from Mark’s forehead, dripping every two seconds with one occasionally every seven seconds. Tomas takes the bag off her head, revealing her face. Her eyes twitch from the bright headlights, making her face glow. Her blond hair blows in the wind and her cuts and bruises make all their way down to a choke imprint on her neck.
    “What the fuck are you pulling here?!” The black man takes a step back and pulls out his pistol.
    Suddenly everyone is aiming their pistols at each other, along with the single rifle. Sweat keeps dripping from Mark’s forehead, every second now. His eyes start to race around along with his pistol.
    “That's the girl right there! What do you mean?!” Tomas’s hand starts to shake, ready to fire at any minute.
    “She was supposed to have red fucking hair!” The black man shouts, no longer acting professional.
    “Then... how?”
    Tomas looks to Mark, remembering he was the one to put her in the van. Mark stops moving and his eyes start darting around.
    “But… she was my favorite. I couldn't! Not my Chloe.” Mark’s sweat meets with a tear, falling to the sand below.
    “Mark!” Tomas screams.
    Bullets rip through the air, shredding Mark’s body apart. The deafening sounds hits their ears as Mark’s body convulses in the air. Blood sprays across the sand and all over the right side of the van. His body slams into the van door as his screams fill the open night air.
    Mark falls to the ground below and Tomas opens fire, hitting the rifleman in the chest. Charlie yells and dives behind the van as bullets spray around from the rifleman, still firing as he falls to the sand below. Tomas gets hit in his shoulder and falls to the ground, yelling in pain along with the others.
    “Shit!” Charlie yells and takes aim from underneath the van.
    He keeps firing until sand blows up in his face from the recoil.
    “Stop! Fucking stop!” A voice screams from beside the van.
    Screams fill the air all around. Charlie gets up and looks to see the black man holding his pistol to the girl’s head. The other died and he hit the black man’s leg, who is now limping.
    “I will kill her! Get back in your fucking van and leave with your life! The drugs and this bitch are mine!” He roars, limping backwards toward the truck door.
    Another gunshot rips through the sky, hitting their ears once again. Blood sprays from the woman’s mouth and the black man’s eyes roll back as his head shoots up. A bullet ripped through them both, sending them both to their knees and onto the sand below.
    Charlie turns to Tomas, holding his gun up. Tomas falls back onto the ground after shooting, holding his shoulder. The only two left alive are Charlie and Tomas, the rest either dead or bleeding out fast. Charlie runs over to Tomas and grabs his arm.
    “What the fuck?!” Charlie helps him stand up, before setting him inside the van and onto the seat.
    “We got what we came for! Just grab the duffel bag and get us the hell outta here!” Tomas holds his shoulder to slow the bleeding.
    Charlie throws the duffel bag onto the other seat and slams the slide door shut. He climbs into the driver’s seat and throws it in drive. He floors it out of the area, taking the road back to the highway.
    “What the fuck happened back there?!” Charlie yells, looking at blood all over his windshield. 
     He uses the wipers but it somehow makes it worse. Wind can be felt coming in from all the bullet holds in the van walls.
     “Mark. Mark got too attached,” Tomas rips his shirt to stop the bleeding, “We told him not to, we only let him sleep with her a few times. Charlie… my shoulder is so numb.”
     Charlie swerves onto the highway and slows down, hoping to not see any police.
     “Keep the pressure on it! I’m calling Dante!” Charlie yells as he pulls out his phone.
     They pass two cars that don’t see the blood because it's all on the right side. They have no choice but to call Charlie’s friend, Dante Mello. Dante is a nurse, who also buys their heroin. Charlie can see the end of the desert, near downtown. The phone rings for a moment then picks up.
     “Charlie! Hey I’m glad you're checking in. I was going to call you thursday because I’m running low and-”
     “Tomas was shot! We need your help he's bleeding out and his shoulder is numb!” Charlie pulls off the highway and into downtown.
     Loud sounds can be heard through the phone, bottles clanging and a loud thud.
     “Shit! Okay okay! Ummm, fuck. Okay!”
     Loud slamming and items falling over can be heard.
     “Okay okay I'm grabbing my things! Hurry here!”
     Charlie hangs up the phone and spots a police car down the road. He quickly turns right and enters a side street. The police car drives by, not looking at the van close enough. Tomas moans as Charlie turns around quickly and gets back on the road.
     A few minutes pass and they arrive. An old brick house lies before them in an old neighborhood. The bricks are worn and weeds cover the lawn all the way to the door. The garage door opens and Dante steps out. He is a tall italian-white mix man with patchy facial hair and scars. They pull into the garage and Dante slides open the van door.
     “What happened?!” Dante looks at the bullet holes and Tomas’s dried blood all over himself.
     “Shootout. We got what we needed. I- I can’t feel my shoulder.” Tomas moans from the seat, the two helping him out.
     Dante closes the garage door to hide the van and tears open his chest freezer. Items lie around the garage, making it a hoarder’s paradise. Flipped over lawn mower that hasn’t been used in months, broken garden tools and a deflated sex doll in the corner.
     Dante puts an ice pack on Tomas’s shoulder and brings them inside. The TV in the living room is blasting a game show, people shouting and the classic sounds. Dante tosses a sock off the couch and sets Tomas down. He removes the bloody shirt and takes a look.
     “The bleeding has slowed down significantly,” He looks at his wound and smiles, “Missed the bone! The bullet went out the back. He just needs cleaning, stitches, and rest.”
     He runs over to the kitchen and starts knocking his endless trash around. Being a hoarder and a nurse seems counter-productive. He opens a liquor bottle and pours it on tweezers. He then fills a cup of water. Charlie looks at Tomas as he tries to control his breathing, the pain pulsating. Dante grabs pills and runs over.
     “Here.”
     He puts a few pain pills in his mouth and fills it with water. Tomas swallows and closes his eyes as Dante pours a little water on the wound. Dante cleans around the wound and uses tweezers to pick a few pieces of dirt out. He runs over to the bathroom and you can hear him flush his toilet, apparently forgetting earlier.
     He runs back out with another bottle and sewing supplies. He dumps liquor on the needle and thread, cleaning it. He sews the wound shut slowly, trying not to make it worse.
     “Augh! Fuck you.” Tomas grinds his teeth together, in pain.
     “Thank you, Dante.” Charlie leans against the wall, exhausted.
     “Okay. Back to it.” Tomas tries to stand up and Dante holds him down.
     “No you can’t go anywhere! You need to rest!” Dante spurts.
     Tomas sits back, realizing he is right.
     “You can stay here, okay? I need to take the drugs to Robert quickly. I will explain everything,” Charlie sits back up and pats Dante on the back, “Take care of him.”
     “Of course. Friends come first. Oh shit! But you can’t drive that damn van. Take my keys and put the duffel bag in the trunk. Bring back the car, along with my refill please.” Dante tosses the keys to Charlie.
     “Will do. Thank you.” Charlie enters the garage and grabs the duffel bag from inside the van.
     He exits the side door and sees the small red car parked on the road. He presses the unlock button and it beeps. The trunk opens and leaves just enough room, among empty bottles and useless trash lying around. He slams the trunk close and climbs into the car, pushing useless trash off the dashboard. He sees weed on the floor and stained papers, along with magazines. The car starts up fine and takes off down the road, heading deeper downtown.
     The woman’s face is engraved in Charlie’s mind. The way she whimpered for safety all the way there, just to die. She never saw her family again and her body will be found soon, with no explanation as to why. Charlie hates to see good people get hurt, but he cannot help his cravings, so he continues. What Charlie really needs is help, what he really needs is a way out, and what he really needs is his younger brother back.
     Just like a hyena, the city screams and laughs during the cold dark night. Charlie passes under the rail bridge that goes over Robert’s hideout. He lives in a big warehouse underneath a rail bridge, next to the massive outside storm drain. This area is often filled with homeless that roam the streets and often isn't visited by most of the population.
     Charlie pulls up to the warehouse, honking his horn three times then after one second a long honk. The garage door opens to his pattern and he can see the familiar faces.
     “What happened to the van? Where is Tomas?” Bobbie, the fat white-trash meth dealer asks.
     “We got into a firefight. We have what we came for and Tomas is healing up. He got hit, but will be fine.” Charlie opens the trunk and grabs the duffel bag.
     “And Mark?” Bobbie asks.
     Charlie shakes his head and Bobbie sighs.
     Bobbie closes the garage door and Charlie looks around the warehouse. The main office is upstairs along the wall, looking out onto the main floor from scaffolding. Old tool boxes and broken cars lie about the warehouse floor, with a few tall shelves full of trash and garbage. They keep most of the drugs and woman holding cells upstairs with Robert, so if police ever come they have to fight up.
     Charlie carries the duffel bag up the stairs, leading to the door. Inside has several windows watching the back alley area under the overhead rail bridge. Robert is sitting at his desk across the room, with the locked right side rooms holding guns, heroin and his money. On the left locked rooms are the holding cells. Charlie never knows how many women are chained up inside like dogs, he always hopes none.
     “Well fucking done! Yes! That’s the good shit right there Charlie!” Robert stands up and begins to clap, annoying the two others in the room.
     Robert Miller is an arrogant, tall, black man. He has curly black hair, tattoos all over his body, and gold plated teeth. He is covered in silver and golden jewelry, his pants slag down and his clothes have holes. Charlie drops the duffel bag on the table and Robert quickly opens it. Bags of laced heroin fill the bag, making it even more deadly and addictive.
     “Shit!” Robert kicks the table and laughs, “That’s some good looking shit! That oughta sell alright! Damn!”
     Robert stops laughing and sits down, looking up and Charlie.
     “Where is Tomas? What the fuck?” Robert rubs his face, knowing something is up.
     Silence enters the room, only allowing the quiet sound of chains moving, coming from the cells.
     “We got into a firefight. We had to kill everyone. I got the goods but it went to shit.” Charlie adds, closing his eyes and waiting for it.
     “Well what the fuck?! Where is Mark and Tomas?! What happened to that fucking deal?!” Robert knocks over leftover food he was eating, “No! I should ask... who the fuck is to blame?!”
     Charlie sighs and opens his eyes.
     “Tomas was hit and is healing at Dante’s house. He will be ready to return soon but-”
     “No! I asked you one simple question! I asked you who the fuck is to blame! Why did this shit happen?!” Robert starts to slam his fists on the table.
     Robert’s left eye begins to twitch and he stands up.
     “Mark brought the wrong woman. He got too attached. He is dead.” Charlie’s face falls flat.
     Robert gasps and swallows a large amount of spit.
     “Who did he bring?” Robert rubs his face.
     “Some blond woman. She died too.”
     “Fuck!” Robert kicks the table and yells in his hands.
     Everything goes quiet but the chains, rustling in the background.
     “Who? Oh no… really? Was she supposed to have red hair?” Robert mutters into his hands.
     “Yeah.”
     The chains continue to rattle quietly, making Robert uncover his right ear and tilt his head. He removes his hands and points to the cells. 
     “Greg! Grab the redhead!” Robert opens a few desk drawers as Greg enters the cells, chains rattling louder.
     “Always. Always. Why can’t anything go right?” Robert grabs brass knuckles and sucks leftover hamburger out of his golden teeth.
     Greg, the skinny white man exits the cell, with the woman in arm. She is a rather beautiful woman with long red hair, covered in bruses and obvious sex abuse. She is placed on her knees in front of Robert, her hands tied and mouth gagged.
     “Mark. You remember Mark, right? Bald and ugly as hell?” Robert bends down and looked her in the eyes, causing her to look away.
     Robert grabs her hair and forces eye contact.
     “M… ark!”
     The woman nods.
     “I told him to have his fun. Obviously you let him have too much!”
     Robert slaps the woman across the face and stands up, as she cries in pain.
     “Punishment! Someone needs to pay for this shitshow of a night! You, you bitch! You’ll do just fine!”
    Robert hits her across the face with the brass knuckles, causing her forehead to cut open. He keeps hitting her over and over in the chest, causing her to scream and thrash around. In a desperate attempt to escape, she manages to kick Robert away and get on her feet.
    “No! You will be, punished!”
    Robert grabs her long, beautiful red hair and uses it to hurl her face into his desk. She screams and falls to the floor, crying and whimpering. Charlie watches in horror, as his mind melts. The memories. Markus. He can’t help but remember when his parents used to beat his younger brother, just like this.
    “Punish… ment!” Rober kicks her in her side repediatally.
    Robert wipes sweat off his forehead and tilts his head sideways.
    “Did this bitch just pass out?!” Robert kicks her again and she lies still.
    “Rober-”
    Robert kicks her one last time and spits on her body.
    “Fuck! Okay I’m done with her! Greg put her back!” Robert sits down and starts wiping the blood off his brass knuckles.
    Charlie stands for a moment and continues to contemplate why he is always the one. Why Charlie. Why that women.
    “Charlie! Speaking of punishment, I need to speak with you about something that has completely pissed me off, on so many new fucking levels!” Robert sucks more food from his teeth, looking up at him.
    Charlie’s hair stands up, and his head tilts to the left ever so slightly.
    “Yes?”
    “We have a problem. In fact, a huge, massive fucking problem! This unloyal piece of shit has been trying to play us! He thinks he can keep Simon’s cut from his deals! Well… he was wrong. Charlie I want you to go kill him! He won’t know who you are but just thinks you’re selling to him.” Robert rubs his face again, frustrated.
    “He is stealing from Simon? Is he insane?” Charlie shakes his head, fearing Simon.
    “He won’t be stealing from Simon ever again! He told me to get him killed. I want you to do it, and tell me how it goes. I’m tired of doing all the fucking work!”
    “Tonight?”
    “Yes. The night is still young, Charlie.”
    Charlie nods and heads toward the door, Robert texting him the address. The room goes silent enough to hear Robert sucking his food between his teeth. Charlie grabs the door handle and stops, the room silent. So silent that he can hear the chains rattling, again.