Packing Heat(137)

My heart started hammering in my chest, and I knew I was in a really bad situation. These men may have been greasy-looking rednecks, but they were dangerous, very dangerous.

I owed money to the Dixie Mafia, and they were coming to collect. At least, my family owed them money. Back when the housing market collapsed and the economy went to hell, my father took a loan from the Dixie Mafia out of desperation. Now, years later, they wanted that money back.

I’d come to Knoxville to try to work something out with them. I worked my ass off day and night, giving them every cent I made, but it wasn’t even close to enough. I tried everything I could think of, but they weren’t interested.

There was nothing I could do. I was going to run back home in shame and pray that my father could figure something out. It killed me to imagine the mafia getting a hold of our farm or, even worse, the bank bulldozing the whole thing.

Looking up at Guff’s dark eyes, at his long stringy hair and the sick smile on his face, I knew coming to Knoxville had been a serious mistake. I was so stupid and naïve to think that I could really fix any of this. My family thought I was just out here staying with a friend. They had no clue what I was up to.

“Come on,” Guff said, yanking my arm. I stumbled to my feet. “Let’s go for a fucking walk.”

“Get off me,” I said, terrified. I looked around but nobody seemed to care. Most of the men simply looked away, too ashamed to even make eye contact with me.

Guff and his boys, they were known here. Everyone knew the Dixie Mafia in Knoxville. They practically ran the town, and if you wanted to survive you had to make good with them. Nobody crossed the mafia and survived, not for long at least.

As I was learning. They dragged me across the room and out into the parking lot, pushing me toward my car.

I stumbled and tripped over a rock, tumbling down to the ground. The men laughed as Guff roughly pulled me to my feet.

“Open the car,” he ordered. I listened and unlocked the driver’s side door.

One of the goons tore open the door and grabbed my bag. He ripped through it, throwing the contents around. He looked at Guff and shook his head.

“Where’s our money, Hartley?” he asked. “Where’s our fucking money?”

“You know I don’t have it,” I said. “I gave you everything I could.”

“That’s not how this works,” Guff said, and shoved me against the car. “Your people took lots of money from us, and you showed up asking how you could pay us back. We gave you some options, but you didn’t like ’em. Now you want to leave?”

I clenched my jaw and looked away. Their idea of paying them back involved me whoring myself out to their customers. They wanted me to sell myself into sex slavery in exchange for my family’s debt, and I just couldn’t do it. I’d tried to think of something else, tried to make enough money to show that I meant to make good, but they weren’t reasonable men.

“I had no choice,” I said. “You really expected me to do that?”

“Hell yeah, girl,” he said. “I expect you to suck every fucking cock in this state if you want to get out of debt.”

“Screw you, Guff,” I said, surprising myself. I didn’t know where I was finding this anger, but it was there, deep inside me.

The men all laughed. “All right then, Hartley,” he said. “You can screw me, all right.” He reared his hand back and then punched me in the face.

I would have fallen if I weren’t held up by the car. Pain flashed through my face, blinding me, shocking me with its intensity.

“I’ll let you screw me right here,” Guff said, cackling like a madman. “Boys, go make sure nobody bothers us.”

Guff grabbed me and spun me around. I had the sense to try to fight him off, but he was too strong.

“Go ahead,” he whispered in my ear. “Struggle.”

I couldn’t believe this. I couldn’t believe this was going to happen, in the middle of the day, in the parking lot. I was so close to getting out, so close to running.

I should never have come to Knoxville.





2





Travis





I hadn’t been home in a long damn time.

Knoxville hadn’t changed much since I last left it over five years ago. Same assholes ran the place, same economically depressed industries, same old shit. I wasn’t sure what the fuck was drawing me back, except to visit my brother.

Maybe I needed a little nostalgia. For the past five years I’d been a member of an elite Navy SEAL team tasked with hunting down and killing international terrorists. Our biggest adversary, a group based out of Pakistan called The Network, had attempted to blow up a nuclear power plant in Michigan. Fortunately, though, the team’s old SEAL captain and I had managed to foil the plot, averting a serious disaster.