Deserted - Auctioned

In ten minutes, Gray only counted four vehicles.

The mountain range from yesterday came into view, and they drove alongside it, not counting the stretch of rattlesnake land between them.

After a while, Darius gave Gray’s knee a squeeze and pointed ahead of them.

They could see the house, and there were no cars ahead of them. Gray glanced over his shoulder. No vehicles behind them either. Then he faced forward again and got ready. Closer, closer, closer. This was gonna be fast.

Once they were almost there, they could spot Buck in the backyard. He was sitting on the porch drinking beer, and that was the last thing they saw before the house blocked the view.

Game time.

Gray was off the ATV before the engine was turned off. He darted for the driveway and stopped when he reached the corner before the backyard. Then he stayed low and soundless and started counting. Darius was gonna knock on the front door in fifteen seconds.

Unstrapping the knife on his belt, Gray listened carefully and went through his memories of what he’d just seen. Buck on the porch, in a chair, on the right side of the doors, which meant he’d stand up and go left. Eleven, ten, nine. Gray should be able to peek without being spotted. Seven, six, five. He ducked down farther and licked his lips, inching around the corner just enough to see him. Mere feet away, without a care in the world. Buck reached for his beer on the table, and he leaned forward far enough for Gray to see the revolver tucked into the back of his jeans like last night.

Three, two, one…

Gray rose from his position as Darius knocked on the door and rang the doorbell.

He couldn’t see Buck’s reaction, though he sure heard the man a second after.

“No solicitors!” Buck yelled.

Gray held his breath and waited. Was there a chance Buck would go around the house instead of through it? No, through the living room had to be closer.

Last night when Darius had presented the plan, Gray had offered to knock on the door, mainly because he thought it was the easiest job. It was before he’d realized that he’d play a bigger role than sidekick. And Darius had agreed; knocking on the door was the easy gig. But it was also the direction Buck would point his gun if he had it on him. Valid point. That said, Gray would keep the revolver in his sight, because if the opportunity—

Darius knocked and rang the doorbell again.

“Goddammit,” Buck muttered and pushed back his chair. Gray got ready and peered around the corner the second Buck disappeared inside, and that was his cue. “I said I ain’t interested!”

Gray flew toward the porch and followed Buck without making a single sound.

He didn’t even breathe, nor did he register anything around him. All he saw was the gun tucked into Buck’s pants. And when the man reached the hallway, Gray bolted for him. In a single move, he lifted the gun off of Buck, drew his knife, and pushed it to his throat, and, as Buck startled with a couple steps forward, Gray mirrored him and pulled the door open for Darius.

“What the—” Buck’s shout was cut off by Darius, who flinched toward him and slapped his hand to Buck’s mouth. Next, Gray eased away as Darius shoved the man up against the wall. Gray was right there to point the gun at Buck’s head.

Adrenaline shot through Gray as he stared into the terror in Buck’s brown eyes.

“Between you and your brother, who’s the biggest piece of shit?” Gray slid the barrel of the gun to the spot between Buck’s eyes. “Do you buy your own slaves, or do you just play with Chester’s?”

Buck’s reaction was telling. He shook his head frantically, panic seeping into his wild gaze.

“I believe Chester has him beat, but he ain’t innocent,” Darius said, amused. “Look how his pupils dilate.” He nodded at Gray. “Let’s get him to a chair.”

They brought Buck to a cushy chair in the living room, and Darius took care of the revolver while Gray went nuts with the duct tape. And to prevent any screaming, Darius pushed said gun into Buck’s mouth.

“Quick background story,” Darius told Buck. “A couple months ago, your brother boarded a boat to buy a living person. I was on that boat too. So was this guy.” He jerked a thumb at Gray. “But unlike your brother, we weren’t there to force someone into slavery.” He paused. “We killed every motherfucker on that boat who’d committed the same heinous crime as Chester—except for him. Your brother got away.”

When Buck’s hands, arms, and legs were secured to the old recliner, Gray drew a strip of tape across Buck’s neck and around the back of the chair too.

“His fate is decided, Buck Raymond,” Darius said. “Yours isn’t. If you cooperate with us, you just might live to evade the law another day. Now, you know screaming won’t save you. There’s no one around for miles, and anyone coming remotely close to this house is passing by, locked away in their car.”