It's that day of the week again! Prompt stories, 500-1k, posted every week by yours truly and a mix of great authors with all different kinds of genres and types! Check out this week's update and then read on to see other Briefer's stories.
This week's prompts were Easter themed, but I didn't incorporate that since I wanted to keep going with my story. The prompts were: "... has arisen..." or use: lamb, soul, redemption or use ham in an interesting way or "You have no faith to lose and you know it..." (my nod to Bob Dylan) or use: chocolate or use a church in some way or "Family values? Your family wouldn't know family values if..."
I chose to use 'church' but it's a pretty weak inclusion. Sorry, but hey, I'm hoping you guys will like this anyway!
One Night Part 13
“There is a key hidden behind the left edge of the door, brick with the white edge.” Bear’s words were slurred a little as he spoke through a fat lip. He’d tried to help Kameron when the large man had been hauled roughly to his feet and then started to fall.
Bear had been jerked away by his hair and backhand by Choika, a ring on his finger tearing at Bear’s cheek. His cry and Kameron’s coming at the same time as Kameron hit the floor with a heavy thud.
Blood had filled Bear’s mouth, so he spit it on the floor, then on the sidewalk outside the door they were dragged through.
Choika had sadistically taunted Bear the entire way, cutting open Kameron’s shirt and then shoving the tip of his knife into the skin of Kameron’s chest and stomach and wiggling it.
“This is where I will cut out his heart, if you do not find me my drugs,” Choika warned them. He dug the knife in farther, blood welling up and running down Kameron’s body to soak into his pants.
Bear had gagged, his heart in his throat and his stomach rebelling as he was forced to watch Kameron suffer. If he closed his eyes Choika would dig the knife in deeper. If Kameron didn’t cry out, Choika did it harder.
The drive had taken far too long, and sweat ran down Kameron’s face by the time they’d arrived. Bear had cried the whole time, unable to stop the tears from falling down his face. They’d duct taped his hands together in front of him but a heavy set man sat next to him the whole time with his meaty hand circling Bear’s bicep, squeezing and bruising his pale skin.
They made Bear dig out the brick and grab the key, opening the door. Choika pushed him in ahead of him. “Security system?”
Bear shook his head. “Do you see one? This is just a small bar man.” The short white walls of the hall had two doors; one to a store room and the other to Loren’s small office. The other side of the hall had a swinging door separating it from the open area of the bar. It was silent as a church.
Choika grunted. “Go check it out. Don’t forget the basement!” He waved his two men forward. The driver of the car, a really tall man who was going bald and had a bit of a gut on him, kept a hold of Kameron.
Waiting was driving Bear crazy. His breath was coming short. “I know where the drugs were. There’s a shelf, in the store room, where the box was if Loren didn’t move it. We could get them, right now, then you can let us go.”
The gang leader smirked at him. “So eager to help now.”
Bear let himself sniffle. “I don’t want you to hurt him anymore.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” Choika looked at the driver. “Stay here with him, but be prepared.”
Bear did not like the sound of that. Sweat slid down his spine. He works at the tape on his wrists, pulling them as far apart as he could.
Choika shoved him into the store room, making Bear cry out as he slammed his ribs against the door frame. He fell to his knees, fumbling with his arms against the rough edge as he tried to catch his balance.
“Get up!” Choika dragged him up by his hair. Bear cried out again as his ribs protested. It felt like he’d broken at least one. He gasped for air, the pain making him dizzy.
Focus. He had to focus. He didn’t have much time.
Bear held his wrists close together and pointed up at a shelf above his head. “It was up there, in the back.” Not even Choika was tall enough to reach it. Licking his lips, Bear made sure he didn’t glance back at the door where his step stool hung on the wall behind it.
“Fuck!”
Bear reeled from another blow. He stumbled against the rack, catching himself before he could ram into it with his damaged ribs. He reached, fumbling, trying to hide his actions with a loud sob.
The bottle of Jim Beam he grabbed had a thick bottom. He gripped the neck with one hand and held on tight to the shelf with the other. The tattered edges of the tape hung from his wrists where he’d hurriedly cut it against a sharp piece of metal sticking out of the bottom of the door jamb when he’d fallen to his knees.
Choika grabbed his hair, again. Bear had been waiting for that. He yanked his head forward out of the big man’s grip and then swung his whole body backward as hard as he could, his hand wrapped white-knuckled around the side of the shelf.
His aim was unerring as he swung up and slammed the bottle into Choika’s temple. The gang leader collapsed instantly, falling backward.
Bear panted hard, but he didn’t have time to waste. He shoved the bottle in his waistband under his shirt and stuck his wrists back together like they were still taped up. He stumbled out into the hall.
“He wants you to go get the box. It’s on a top shelf.”
The driver cursed and dragged Kameron toward Bear. Bear pointed at the floor, catching Kameron’s eyes. The large man instantly sank down, like he had passed out, just as they started to move past Bear. Grabbing the bottle from under his shirt, Bear swung it down on the man’s head as he bent toward Kameron.
It struck with a meaty thud, like it had on Choika’s head. The driver collapsed on top of Kameron.
Bear tried to drag him off, but the pain in his ribs was growing. “Get up, hurry.”
They staggered off, holding each other up. They had to get out before the other guys came back and the police showed up.
TBC
Now check out the other great stories by my fellow Briefers!
Maverick's Mate by Lynn Hagen
