Borden 2

Now is not the time for fucking.

He listened to every bit of noise as he admired her, idly watching the minutes tick with this dread growing inside of him. In his need to see her, nobody but Graeme knew he was here. He didn’t even have a fucking gun on him.

He was suddenly disturbed by how vulnerable he was. He was the most feared man in New Raven, and the fucking idiot was sitting inside a dilapidated apartment building, unarmed, unprepared, and with a woman he cared for sleeping right next to him.

Brilliant, dickhead. Absolutely brilliant.

And all he could think about was that alleyway.

It took him ten minutes. Exactly ten agonizing minutes before he pulled his cell phone out and messaged Graeme.

You around?

Of course he was around. That man never slept. It took not even a minute for Graeme to respond.

Graeme: Always. Down the block from you in the back of my car. Why?

Borden: Notice any strange activity?

Graeme: Nothing from my end. I’m not in front of the apartment building. There were no spots available for parking. Want me to move?

Borden: I want you to drive up the street and let me know if you see anything in the alleyway across the building from us.

Graeme: And what happens if I see someone? Take him to dinner or drop him off at the park?

Borden paused before he answered, a fleeting round of scenarios running through his mind.

Borden: You take him to dinner.

In other words: You apprehend the fucker and wait for Borden’s next instructions.

In other words: Borden was going to cut every inch of flesh off the fucker’s body.

In other words: Fucker was going to his death.

Borden slid out of bed and looked out the window. Moments later the black Mercedes slowly inched down the street, coming to a stop in front of the alleyway. It stayed like that for some time, and then Borden’s phone buzzed.

Graeme: I don’t see anyone, but it’s too dark to be sure. Do you want me to get out and have a better look?

Borden: Do it in a minute. I’ll be down there by then.

He grabbed his clothes and shoes and slipped them on. Then he went to the night table and grabbed the chain with Emma’s apartment key on it and hurried out, quietly locking the door behind him. It was unusually mute in the hallway as he made his way to the elevator. He took the elevator down and when he was out, the car was still stopped and Graeme was already standing outside the alleyway, peering in.

Borden approached him, and Graeme turned his head to look at him. “Nobody is here, Mr Borden. Empty. I’m certain of it.”

Ignoring him, Borden reached his hand out. “Gun.”

Graeme removed his gun out of the waistband of his pants and handed it to him. Borden turned the safety switch off and, without another word, he walked down the alleyway.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. He pressed a button, prompting the screen to light up, and used it like a flashlight, aiming it around him every step of the way.

Despite his gut feeling, the alleyway was completely empty. Borden gritted his teeth, stopping when he reached the end. He really was losing his shit after all. He could hardly believe it.

“What’s going on?” Graeme asked, approaching him quietly from behind. “Is there a threat?”

“I don’t know,” Borden answered uncertainly. “I can’t be sure if I’m being fucked with or…”

Or what?

Regardless, whoever was behind that message needed to be found and dealt with. He looked back at the text, reading it over and over again. Who the hell did this pussy think he was anyway? Without thinking, he angrily responded.

You’re wrong. I will find you, motherfucker, and I will tear you limb from limb.

He sent the message and turned back around. He took two steps before he heard a loud ping coming from nearby. He stopped abruptly and followed the sound. Catching something from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed at the ground and saw something flash feet away from Graeme. Instantly, his senses were on alert.

“Get fucked,” he muttered to himself in disbelief.

Graeme followed his gaze and picked up the lit object from the ground, his own face screwed up. “I don’t understand.”

Borden took it from him and his stomach roiled at the screen he looked down at. A shitty ass cell phone that’d been ditched only recently judging by the full battery.

And one new text message sat in the inbox.

He pressed the message and stared down at his own words. He wasn’t being paranoid. Fucker had stood right here when he wrote the message, and that was what, thirty minutes ago? Adrenaline surged within him, and he exited the text and searched the inbox, looking for something else. Some kind of identity on the fucker. Instead, there was another text sitting in the inbox, and the title read, “BORDEN.” The edges of his vision went red as he pressed it and read the message that made every part of him burn.

I’ve watched your little lady for a while now. She’s very tasty, Borden. That body could make any man go wild. Her movements are fluid, her tits perky and just the right size. I can picture her silky black hair wrapped around my fist as I force her to look up at me. Is it as soft as it looks, Borden? Is she good with her mouth? She has a face with a bottom lip I’d suck happily while chained in my cellar. Naked, preferably. Just like your first whore was. I’ll make sure whore number two suffers longer.

Have I made you angry? Are you gripping my phone a little harder? Are you seething with the need to find me? Bury me?

I’d like to see you try.

“Borden?” Graeme’s voice sounded distant.

Borden gripped the phone tightly, the screen already stressing beneath his grip. His vision spotted, and like a supernova, his rage burst, lighting up his insides. He took a few deep breaths – breaths that sounded like pants – and slowly pocketed the phone he wanted nothing more than to smash; a phone that was left behind on purpose by a fuck that was actually a step ahead of Borden and beating him at his own game. A fuck that just told him he wanted his woman chained in a cellar naked…Like Kate. There were no words to describe the anger within him. It was so strong, he shook. Clenching his jaw, he tried calming down before looking up at Graeme.

“We’re leaving,” he told him, his voice dark and edgy. “Right now.”

One

Borden

He fucking hated bikers.

Soulless things, bikers were.

And dirty as fuck.