Vanished in Chicago (Vanished)

“Since you insist on insulting me, you don’t get to find out.” she saunters off, her hair swinging down to her ass, pointing right at her plump globes, showing me where my handprints are going to be permanently tattooed. I watch, saying nothing as she walks away, but it doesn't stop me from grinning. I like her spunk. It is going to be so much fun breaking it.

That was a week ago. I spent the rest of that day and since then trying to find a social media presence or something about her or any of his daughters, but nothing. Lock and key are an understatement. I took to following her everywhere and taking note of who she spent her time with. I might have stroked my cock a time or two, watching her laugh, or lick ice cream from a cone. Don’t get me started on watching her in one of those pop-up dance classes she sometimes frequents, her juicy tits bouncing up and down in her halter top, showing every dick walking her rack. A couple of punks almost caught two between the eyes.

I even stooped low enough to show up to some of the places she has been and ‘bumping’ into her, anxious to get her in some conversation and learn more about her. Smart girl that she is, she would flirt with me but never give away too much information. I was impressed. She is smart. The last place was at the park reading a book. I had the foresight to bring a picnic lunch, and she so graciously sat with me, even though we both knew nothing about it was accidental, but she never called me on it, letting me know she felt the pull between us as well.

For two hours, we sat in the grass talking and laughing, sharing enough but not too much. A few times, I found myself leaning into her just to sniff her scent, embed it into my brain, taxing myself with the job of being a bloodhound, using her scent to guide me to her at every turn. Yeah. This girl has turned me upside down. My nights are spent stroking my beast, promising him his new toy will be with us soon.

Now, here I am watching as she makes it to her class. I wait for her to go inside before I call my brother to make sure the problem that was waiting for me is still waiting.

“Jak,” he says, clearly out of breath.

“Zef, what the hell. You started without me?” I accuse him as I start up the car and drive toward the warehouse.

“I was bored. You know how much I hate to wait.” Don’t I know it? Little fucker cried like a damn girl whenever he didn’t get his way.

“Well, did you at least save the good shit for me?”

“Of course.” Good. Dumb fuck thought he could steal from the docks on our bridge and get away with it. I found out a couple of weeks ago that a large cargo ship of ammunition coming from Florida was ambushed at the port. Not only did they take the ammo, but they blew up the ship it was on, killing three of my guys. It took me three bodies, one bribe, and a threat to find out who ordered the hit, only to find out it is a fucking crew of soon-to-be-dead fucks trying to make a name for themselves.

“I am five minutes out. Heat up the torch.”

“Shit.” The last thing he says before I hang up. Tonight is going to be fun.

“Ahhh. Stop. Stop.” For the past three hours, there has been nothing but screaming and pleas behind the concrete walls of this place. I walked in here, ready to spare this maggot the torture and give him a quick death provided he gave me the information I am seeking, but he wanted to act tough. He not only spat at my feet, but he cursed my mother. I am an asshole, yes, but when you talk about my mama, all decency goes out the window. Which is why I'm standing here now, pulling off his fingernails one at a time, listening to his bitching as he cries for his own mama.

“Shut the fuck up. I asked you a question. Who the fuck gave the order for the shipment?” I ask him coolly, spinning the pliers between my fingers. I watch, disgusted as he pisses himself and sputters, trying to answer me. I guess just because you have a dick between your legs doesn’t make you a man.

“I really don’t know. No one knows his name. We only know he is a new transplant.” he sputters, blood gurgling his words.

“Who the fuck is he? You have to have heard something.” The fact that I have never heard of him is both unsettling and pissing me off that some nobody is taking me away from my main objective.