The Formidable

25

I don't usually do trigger warnings because of the nature of my books but TRIGGER WARNING FOR DESCRIPTIVE GORE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER

Anyway, enjoy x

*

The men sat in the car, waiting in the dark.

"Do you remember what to do?" Sam asked. Jase chuckled without humour.

"It's not exactly something you forget." They had been waiting for an hour before a car pulled up outside the house. "That's him," Jase mumbled, readying himself to jump into action. The car doors were already open an inch so Greg wasn't alerted to their presence. Slowly, the two of them edged out, sticking to the shadows.

By the time Greg noticed them, it was too late. He managed to open the door before Jase grabbed him, wrapping an arm around his neck and smothering him with the cloth as he cut off his airflow. Greg flailed and wheezed aggressively, the sounds muffled as he dropped to the floor, unconscious. Silently, they dragged him to the car, dumping him in the boot.

"Where are you going?" Sam whisper-shouted as Jase jogged back to the house.

"To look inside, see if there's anything helpful." Sam rolled his eyes but waited by the front door in case the house wasn't empty. A few minutes later, Jase returned, shaking his head as he climbed into the car.

"Nothing. He's squatting," he said, pulling the bandana down from around his face. The house was bare, besides graffitied walls and a mattress on the living room floor surrounded by old letters and food wrappers.

"Smart. No paper trails," Sam mumbled as he pulled away from the curb.

"We only needed one."

"And he only needed one to get a job. With Madison. You think her boss is involved?" Sam raised his brows in question, his attention flickering to Jase momentarily before returning to the road. He made sure to stick to all the speed limits. A general rule of thumb was not to do anything illegal whilst doing something illegal.

"One at a time," Jase replied, staring out of his window. He didn't want to think about how many people could be involved and where they needed to watch their backs. As far as Jase was concerned, no one outside of his immediate circle was to be trusted.

Sam hadn't long finished tying the rope around Greg's waist when he came to. The bright white lighting of the workshop burned his retinas and the smell of oil and fuel permeated the air. It took him a few seconds to realise he was restrained when neither his wrists nor ankles moved on command, each limb was double-knotted with a thick rope around the arms and legs of a steel chair. Jase was a fan of armed chairs, he didn't have to tie his victims' hands around their backs so there was no chance of any concealed weapons and it made their fingers much more accessible.

On the workbench were Greg's burner phone and a wallet. He wasn't dumb enough to carry around ID. So for now, he remained just Greg. Nothing was saved to the phone, no messages or numbers but they would keep it around in case of any incoming calls.

Greg grunted when his eyes adjusted enough to his surroundings that he could see Sam and Jase smoking their cigarettes, watching him. He blinked back the drowsy feeling chloroform left him with, trying to ignore the salivating in his mouth warning him he was going to be sick. When that settled, he grunted again, this time, a sluggish smile spread across his face.

"I guess they were right, you will do anything for that girl," he chuckled. Jase gritted his teeth but didn't speak. He knew Greg's type. He wouldn't let the gravity of the situation bother him yet, he'd tease them before the panic seeped in and he realised he wasn't getting out. Then the anger and entitlement would talk for him. Greg shook his head, another laugh as he spat out, "You idiot."