CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"Who the hell are you guys?" he snapped. Clay handed him a stack of gauze.

"Put that on the knife wound. You're bleeding in our car," he frowned. When the man didn't accept, Clay shoved the gauze on the wound with far more force than necessary. Topper screamed in agony. "Take the fucking gauze, and if you ever shove me again, it will be the last thing you do."

"I-I'm sorry. I thought you were going to rob me."

"You mean like you've robbed hundreds of women on the dating site?" said Ian. Topper stared at the men, looking from one to another.

"Shit, did I do your sister?" he asked. Ian punched him in the mouth, the man's head snapping backward.

"Lucky for you, I don't have a sister, or you'd be dead. Don't ever speak that way again. You lured women in, made them think you cared for them, and robbed them of everything."

"They got their money back through their banks. It's not a big deal. If you want to be technical, I'm robbing the banks."

"I'm sure the police will want to hear that part of your story," said Ghost.

"Wait, you're not cops?"

"No, asshole. We're not cops," said Zeke. "Where is Frank?"

Topper froze, staring at the men and shaking his head. He pushed back in the seat, hoping to create some distance, but realized he was only scooting closer to the deadly Native behind him. He felt the tip of his blade against his throat and stilled.

"Trak, we told you that you can't kill him right away."

"Right away?" screeched Topper.

"Talk," said Ghost.

"I can't. He and Brenda will kill me."

"In case you missed it, so will we," said Clay. "And a little news flash for you; Brenda is in a psychiatric hospital on a seventy-two-hour commit. She's enjoying the embrace of a straitjacket right now. Wanna join her?"

Topper paled, shaking his head as the others stared at him. If Brenda was already caught and in some hellhole of a psychiatric facility, that meant that only Frank and Gerald were out there. Gerald was afraid of his shadow most days, so he would run if given the opportunity. Frank would prefer to kill everyone who knows about him and his operation.

"Let me spell some things out for you, Topper," Ian emphasized the p's in his name, knowing it would most likely annoy the man. "Your idiot partners made a deal with a group of Syrians who are, as of this moment, seeking a way into this country so that they can track your asses down. When they find you, and they will, they won't ask questions. They'll get their money, even if it's from skinning your hide."

Topper swallowed, looking down and feeling the wave of nausea come over him.

"You vomit in my vehicle," growled Ghost, "and I will feed it to you."

"I-I'm not going to vomit," he whispered. "And I didn't make the deal with the Syrians. Frank did. He always thinks he's smarter than everyone else."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. He was hooking up with a woman last night, but he said it was a bust because she was a crip." Clay reached back, and with all the force he could muster in a closed vehicle, slammed a fist into the man's stomach.

Topper gasped, bending forward, coughing and gagging to catch his breath.

"I-It wasn't me," he wheezed.

"It was you using that derogatory term. Who was the woman?" asked Clay. Topper shook his head, and Clay reared back to pummel him again.

"Wait! God, please, wait. All I wanted was money to run my races and cover travel expenses. It was fast and easy. I didn't think we were hurting the women. I mean, for the most part, we were having at least one night of fun."

"I swear to fuck, I'm going to kill you," growled Zeke.

"Geez, okay. Fine. Are you telling me that none of you ever had a one-night stand?"

"It wasn't the same," said Ian.

"It was," said Topper. "Okay, you didn't take their identity or credit cards or cash, but you left them feeling the same way. Some of them I knew would be crushed when I disappeared in the morning. Others, they acted like this was their normal Friday night. I didn't feel bad about those.

"Frank was more ruthless. He went after people intentionally. Sometimes, he'd string a woman along for weeks, even months, if he thought he could get more out of her. He just didn't give a damn. Except when it came to Brenda. Like I said, he was intentional."

"Like with Shelby Zevers, Amber's friend?" asked Clay. Topper opened his mouth, then closed it. He shook his head, realizing that he was not going to walk away from this one.

"Shelby was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I honestly don't think she even knew what was happening. Amber was a nice enough girl, but she wasn't particular about who she went to bed with. Frank thought he was going to steal from her when he took her home, but he found out really fast she had no money and was over-extended on her credit cards. He just figured he'd use her for the night and go home."

"So, what happened?" asked Ian.

"She used him." The men all frowned, looking at one another. It wasn't surprising, but it was. "Like I said, Amber was nice enough, but she was a user all the way. Frank woke up and found his wallet missing, his car keys, everything. He got dressed as fast as he could, called me, and we went looking for her. She was stupid enough to tell him where she worked.

"When he found her, he wanted to beat the hell out of her, but he was also impressed. He asked her to form a partnership with them. That woman had no clue what she was getting herself into. She was falling in love with him, and he was using the shit out of her. Every time she set up a profile for the dating site, we knew that was a target for us.

"Shelby saw us talking to her in a bar one night, and we knew we wouldn't be able to hook up with her, and Gerald was busy."

"Gerald?" frowned Ghost. "Who the fuck is Gerald?"

"Shit," muttered Topper, rolling his eyes. "Gerald was a friend of Frank's from way back. They went to school together and did some other things, things like this, together."

"Last name," growled Trak. Topper jumped, gripping his chest. He'd completely forgotten about the man behind him.

"Gerald Traeger."

"Go on," said Clay.

"We set up several dates with Shelby, but didn't show up. We got her out of the house and were able to get some cameras in there and tap into her computer. She didn't have very good security. It wasn't all that hard. While she was waiting on her dates, we were digging into her computer and taking her money." He looked up, seeing the angry faces, and flinched. "Please don't hit me again."

"What's the name of the woman that Frank was with last night?" asked Zeke.

"Everly Douglas. She's some sort of tech genius. Owns her own company. Frank didn't know that she was in a wheelchair. Her photos never showed it. She was pretty and all, and usually, that's all he cares about."

"So, he won't fuck and steal from ugly women?" frowned Ian.

"I-I didn't say that. The tech company she owns works on improving banking and credit card security. I think Frank got spooked, and he ghosted her while she was in the bathroom. Look, I told you what I know."

"No, you haven't even begun to tell us what we need to know," said Zeke. "Where is Gerald now?"

"Either with the woman he went to last night, or he's home already."

"Where is home?" asked Ian.

"He, Frank, and Brenda shared a place. I didn't like living with them because all they fucking did was bicker and argue. Brenda is a grade-A bitch. She and Frank were a couple for a while, then she started fucking around with Gerald. I don't know why Frank kept him around."

"Where. Do. They. Live?" growled Trak.

"An extended stay motel off I-10. Live Weekly is what it's called."

"You might have just saved yourself," said Ghost. Trak looked at his friend, shaking his head.

"No. No, you promised."

"Trak, brother. He gave us a lot of information. You can kill Frank."

"Promise?"

"Is he for real? You guys are fucking psycho!" Ghost gripped the young man's shirt, pulling him close to his own face.

"He's very much for real, and you should be fucking glad that you're still alive, you piece of shit. You took advantage of women looking for companionship, love, and trust. You made them think that you had feelings for them, that you cared. Then you robbed them blind. Not just of their money but of their ability to trust anyone afterwards. You made them fearful for the rest of their lives.

"You should be very, very scared because if I decide to leave him alone with you, the outcome will be more painful than anything you could possibly imagine. Right now, count your blessings. If everything you've told us pans out, you're just going to jail. If it doesn't, you'll be a healthy afternoon snack for Alvin."

"Who's Alvin?"