It took every ounce of strength to leave that hot piece of ass in my apartment. My balls were screaming at me to stay behind. Fuck her as many times as I could before the O'Malleys came for us. I was only kidding myself. Even if Tempest and I were able to pull this off. Ian would never let me go. He'd use his last breath to hunt me down and kill me.
But I had to try...for Tempest. If we could actually escape, I could feel her warm body beneath me, my cock sinking into her every night. It was worth a shot.
I killed the engine to my Dodge Charger next to an abandoned building on sixth street. I stepped out into the sun and looked up at the boarding school that housed me for years. The same place where I met the Murphy brothers and this whole thing got started.
The gate had a rusted sign that said: The Walter Payton Boarding School for Boys. A long chain and lock kept the place safe but that wouldn't stop a guy like me. I could pick it if I needed to but the walls were low enough. I heaved myself over and landed in a patch of overgrown weeds and grass. Nobody stepped foot in this place anymore and I didn't blame them. Too many bad memories.
I went around the decrepit mausoleum and came to the playground. I could still remember kids screaming and running around, playing handball and climbing on the jungle gym. I walked to the back wall of the boarding school and ran my fingers across the red bricks. Most of them were chipped and marked up. This was the spot that I finally found the courage to fight back.
Kids were beating the hell out of me daily. None of the adults cared. It wasn't until Ian took me under his wing and taught me how to use my fists, that I learned self-reliance.
This spot in the back of the boarding school was where I fought back for the first time in my life. The bullies stayed away from me after I sent that boy to the hospital. I had solved my problem with my fists and I didn't regret it for one second.
I knocked a couple loose bricks out and knew I'd hit the right spot. I reached my hand in as far as I could, straining and stretching. I pulled out a small rectangular tin box—the same box that I kept under my bed when I was kid.
I wiped the dirt off the top and opened it. A few ziploc bags full of cash were inside. I didn't even know how much was in there. I had stopped counting a long time ago. A guy in my line of work couldn't keep their money in a bank. If I were ever sent to jail, the cops could confiscate all my assets. This tin box was my little secret stash that nobody knew about—not even the O'Malleys.
I stuffed the bags of cash into plastic grocery bags and carried them back to my car. That should be enough to get Tempest and I started in a new country. Mexico would be good place this time of year. I imagined Tempest and I sipping margaritas on the beach, listening to the crash of the waves, enjoying the beautiful sun.
But we had to escape first.
I raced back to my apartment, doing my best to stay under the speed limit and not break any laws. I couldn't afford any heat at this point. If the cops stopped me with all this cash in the passenger seat, they'd surely bring me downtown to ask some question. Better to be safe than sorry.
I parked my Dodge a few blocks away from my apartment in an alleyway where nobody would find it. When the O'Malleys started looking for us, they would start with my car since it will be missing from my house. That will allow Tempest and I just a little bit more time.
I came upstairs to my apartment to find the door wide open. My heart jumped into my throat and my hands curled into fists. “Tempest?” I called out. The front door had been kicked in. I raced through the apartment clearing each room. I spotted my old duffel bag sitting on the bed. My shotgun lay on the floor in the bathroom. I picked it up and examined the gun. It hadn't been fired or loaded.
A spot of blood lay on the cracked wood floorboards.
The O'Malleys had taken Tempest.