Stan led Bailey into the room. He was curled forward, limping with a hissing wince with every other step.
They passed the open door leading to Mo and Gen’s adjoining room. To the space between the bed and the window. “Get on your knees right there. Put your hands flat on the bed. Move, and I’m not gonna bother to kill you. I’ll just make it hurt a little at a time. You understand.”
Bailey nodded like a horse coming for a carrot. Then he lowered his head and panted with his mouth open. Mo must have ruptured something.
Good.
“Where you from, Bailey?”
“Brewster.”
Stan leaned back against the TV stand. Picked up the room phone. Dialed 022 and waited for the security circuit. Ian answered. “Household Services.”
“Kevin Bailey. Brewster, Florida. Freddie Grimes. Unknown at this time.”
“Copy. Three minutes.”
Stan hung up. Kept Bailey covered while he waited. When the door opened, he looked over expecting Mo and Grimes. Instead, Ronnie and Gen came in to freeze in front of the bathroom door, mouths open in identical expressions of shock.
He motioned them farther in with his head. “Get in here and shut the door.”
Ronnie stepped forward. “Is that one of the guys following us?”
Stan kept his attention on Bailey. “Why don’t you girls go into the other room? Mo and I might have to … work.”
“No way,” Gen said.
Ronnie planted her feet. “Is he a rapist like the rest?”
Stan shook his head. “I haven't heard back from Ian yet. Any minute now.”
Ronnie stomped toward the bed, but Stan hooked her with an arm around her waist. “Are you?” she shouted.
“Keep it quiet,” Stan said. “What’s wrong with you?”
She looked at him like he had kicked a baby. “Is he?”
His phone vibrated. “Ronnie, go into the other room. Close the door. Wait until we are done.”
She shook her head. Walked to stand next to Gen. “No way.”
He sighed in exasperation as he answered the phone. “Yeah.”
“Bailey served seven months of a two-year stint for statutory rape. She turned eighteen when he was inside. Married him so he could have his case re-argued. She died a week after he got out. Drowned in her own vomit during his homecoming party.”
“Jesus.”
“Freddie Grimes fired from Orlando Police after accusations of molesting children visiting Disney. All charges dropped after parents proved unwilling to proceed.”
“Bad guys then.”
“The worst. Should I stand by for disposal?”
Stan stared at Bailey for a moment. Imagined him forcing liquor into his new wife and watching her choke to death. “Affirmative. Disposition forthcoming.”
“Copy.”
Stan tossed his phone on the stand behind him and looked over to the girls. “If you’re gonna stay in here, then sit down. Stay out of the way. Don’t interrupt.”
They both nodded and slid over to the soft rocking recliners next to the bed. As they sat, a knock sounded on the door.
Stan kicked the foot of the bed. “Remember what I said?”
Bailey nodded.
Stan backed to the door and aimed through the gap as he opened it.
Pulled Grimes through the door as Mo gave him a push to get out of the hallway. Stan turned to direct Grimes to the edge of the bed next to Bailey. “Monkey see, monkey do.”
Grimes dropped down. Shook his head in disgust before begrudgingly copying Bailey’s posture.
Stan looked over at the girls. “You sure you don’t want to wait in the other room?”
They looked at each other, looked back, and nodded as one. He shrugged. “Okay.”
He spun back to Grimes and brought the barrel of the pistol down across the bridge of his nose. He fell back to crash against the air conditioner under the window. Turned to let the blood drip onto the carpet. Shook his head before pulling himself back up.
Stan leaned back on the TV stand. “Sounds like you two pussies are part of Pedophile Junction. Just getting your ass handed to you left and right.”
Grimes cupped his hand over his mouth and nose. “Fuck you.”
Stan shook his head. “Not me. I just got you two. But look how many of you went after my cousin. One old man, and he dusted them like they were nothing.”
Bailey perked up for the first time since kneeling by the bed. “Fuck that. If I’d been there, I would have shown Frank Grimm what was up.”
Bailey turned and spread his arms. “The fuck?”
Mo snorted laughter. “Your brains must be in your balls. Got a little rattled there.”
Bailey shook his head. “What?”
Mo crossed his arms. “You just gave yourself away, dumbass.”
“Whatever. I didn’t say nothing. Just that one old man wouldn’t have been able to take me.”
“No. You called him Frank Grimm,” Mo said.
Stan chuckled. “I never said his name.”
Bailey dropped back on his heels with a groan. “So? That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means we have to decide what to do with you.”
“We have to kill them,” Mo said.
Stan stepped away for the stand. “We could just tune ‘em up. Make ‘em think twice.”
Ronnie held her hand up like she was in class. “Are they rapists?”
Stan nodded. “According to their records, yes. In one way or another.”
“Does that enter into your decision?”
“It does.”
“Then I agree with Mo.”
Stan turned back to the two men kneeling next to the bed. “That’s two out of three.”
Bailey's eyes were wide. Mouth twitching into a frown. He pointed to Gen. “What about her?”
Gen leaned forward to put her elbows on her knees. Her triceps muscles looked like horseshoes under the skin of her upper arms. “What were you going to do to us?”
“Just watch. I swear.”
“Bullshit,” Ronnie shouted. She jumped up and pointed. “The last time you fuckers came around, one of you tried to rape me. He was gonna kill me anyway, but decided to have a little fun before … he … “
She closed her eyes.
Stan noticed Grimes staring at her heaving breasts. He jumped forward to put the toe of his Everyday Carry into his ribs. It drove him into Bailey, and they both crashed into the nightstand. The bedside lamp tumbled over, sending a streak of light over the curtains.
Stan leaned back and waited for everybody to calm down. He wanted to go and take Ronnie into his arms, but he needed to be in between her and the men. Needed to keep her under control. Keep her safe.
“There’s no doubt,” he said. “If you had managed to get the better of us. You would have done it. Even though they aren’t the age you prefer.”
Bailey dug himself out from under his partner, shaking his head. “No. I swear.”
Mo sighed. “We can’t let them live.”
“No, please,” Bailey whined.
Stan pointed to the blood. “We can't do it here in the room. The carpet’s already stained. I can’t afford any more of this kind of shit.”
Grimes wheezed as he got back up to his knees. “Fuck you, just do it.”
Mo spread his hands. “See? Let’s take ‘em to the shower. Put one across their throats and turn the water on. Wrap ‘em in plastic. Send ‘em out in a laundry cart.”
Stan nodded. “Unless you want to take out a little of your frustration on ‘em first.”
“That’ll have to be in the shower too then.”
“Hey,” Bailey shouted. “Come on, man. Just … just fucking don’t.”
Stan shrugged in apology. “I’m sorry, Kevin. You just don’t have anything of value. Why should we listen to you?”
“I might,” Bailey shouted. “Seriously, I might.”
Grimes bent forward until his forehead was resting on the bed. Both arms around his gut. “Don’t listen to ‘em, Bailey. They’ll kill us anyway.”
“That’s not true,” Stan said. “You just don’t have anything to deal with. You are of no use.”
Mo turned to Ronnie. “You wanna help? Go turn the water on. Get it real hot so it washes the blood away better.”
“My pleasure,” Ronnie said. She spun on her toes and marched to the bathroom. In the heavy silence, the stream of water sounded like sizzling meat.
Stan aimed his pistol at Grimes, then to Bailey. “I guess we have to decide who first.”
“Come on, man,” Bailey said, flinching away from the barrel.
“The heaviest one first,” Mo said. “Go to the lighter one next. That’ll follow my strength curve as I get tired.”
“Oh, Jesus fuck, man,” Bailey shouted. “I know things.”
“Me too,” Stan said. “You look about thirty pounds heavier than your boyfriend.”
Grimes shook his head, smearing blood on the comforter. “They’re fucking with you. We’re dead no matter what.”
Stan nodded like he had just made a decision. “On your feet, Bailey. Let’s go clean you up.”
“I’m serious,” Bailey said. “We know some shit. We do. Ask us. Come on, man, Just fucking ask us.”
Stan looked over to Mo. “What do you think?”
Mo shrugged. “Up to you.”
Stan nodded and looked back to Bailey. “Here’s a promise I can make you.”
Grimes sat up and rolled his eyes.
Stan kept his gaze on Bailey. “I promise I will not kill you if you answer a few questions.”
Bailey nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”
Grimes growled and pointed to Mo. “He didn’t promise.”
Mo put his hands up. “I fucking swear. I won’t kill you either.”
Grimes looked down at his hands. A drop of blood dripped from the end of his nose. “This is stupid.”
Bailey closed his eyes. “What else is there?”
Ronnie stomped back out of the bathroom. “You mean I turned that fucking thing on for no reason?”
If she was acting, Stan loved her. If she wasn’t, he might love her a little bit more.