The Ranch Ch. 06

"What kind of sick fuck are you?" Mark growled, jumping to his feet. "Get out. And if you come back, I'll give you the same treatment I gave your disgusting son."

"It's a shame it came to this," George said sinisterly as he rose. Though he'd never show it, George quite liked Mark, impressed by his fierce courage. Striding to the exit, he briefly turned back.

"I'm sorry," he said condescendingly, "but you are not the only one who understands people. The difference between us, is that you sully your instincts with arrogance." Then he quickly left, the sound of his rapid footsteps echoing across the main lobby outside.

Mark snorted at George's last comment. Exhaling his anger, he bent forward and leaned onto the table, dropping his head to his chest. What had he learned? Like father, like son, but George was cautiously wiser. Mark tossed back his drink and roughly set the glass upon the table with a 'clack'. The empty room was silent, but it seemed alive with tension following George's presence.

Mark rubbed his temples, feeling the alcohol warm him as it snaked down his body. George was the type to spitefully make his enemies pay dearly for the slightest insult, even mere inconvenience. For George to make an offer of peace, a truce, he evidently wasn't in as strong a position as he made out. He was worried. But though George wasn't as stupidly reckless as his son, he was just as determined to get what he wanted. Maybe even more so. To get what he-?

"Katie!" Mark gasped, and broke into a blind run. Praying he was just being paranoid, his heart crashed against his ribcage as he dashed across the lobby. He didn't wait for the elevator, almost tripping over Katie's discarded shoes as he charged up the stairs four at a time. Skidding into the hallway, he almost slipped to the floor as he grasped the doorway of Katie's suite. The door was open, and there was blood on it's edge.

"Katie!? Gerard!" Mark shouted, bursting through the doorway, frantically turning on the lights as he searched every room. The lounge was a mess, chair's over-turned, decorative ornaments colourfully scattered across the floor. Mark suffered a woozy moment as he inhaled the distinct scent of alcohol and antiseptic. The lingering essence from a strong dose of chloroform.

"FUCK!" Mark screamed, running both hands through his ruffled brown hair. George knew Mark would never give up Katie, all he needed was enough time to grab her. George was perfectly right about Mark, he was arrogant. Mark didn't recognise he was the one being examined, never realised he was being stalled. Didn't comprehend that George, a busy man, had taken more than ten minutes to discuss what could easily have been settled in thirty seconds.

Mark tore back into the hall and down the stairs to the lobby, half-knowing there was no point. Crashing through the front doors and stumbling down the steps into the dark night, he heard the faint sound of a car engine revving, growing fainter as the vehicle quickly left the surrounds.

"Oh, my God," he whispered bleakly, staring ahead into the black darkness. Where was George taking her? The more pressing question was, what would he do to her?

Mark spun as the large front door swung open behind him, and Gerard staggered out, blood running down his forehead. They looked at each other for a horrified second.

"Fuck it," Mark shook his head, "I'm calling the cops."

********************

George stretched his legs out in the passenger seat, very pleased with himself. Despite the substantial anxiety and inconvenience he'd suffered, George had in his possession one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever laid eyes on, and that was certainly worth celebrating. Resolving to keep a firmer, more brutal hand on his son in future, marrying Dom off could be just the thing to keep him under thumb.

"Problem," noted the driver, blankly raising his eyes to the flashing lights that flickered across the review mirror.

"So, pull over, Frank," George shrugged. As the vehicle eased to the curb on the highway, he leaned toward the driver's side as Frank casually wound down the window to greet the approaching officer.

"Good evening," he officer gave them a wry smile, "I need everyone out of the vehicle."

"What is this about officer?" George inquired pleasantly.

"We need to conduct a search. It won't take long."

"I believe we have a right to know what you're searching for, officer," George answered, narrowing his eyes.

The officer's jaw set with stern impatience. "I won't ask again. Out."

George's eyes widened with a perfect expression of scandalised shock. "If you insist, officer." He quickly glanced to the man sitting in the back seat and gave him a barely discernible nod. Registering, the man shifted and unhooked his holster as he stepped out of the car.

George and his two accomplices stood to the side as the first officer was joined by a second, and both flashed their torches through the front and back seats.

"Open the trunk," the second officer gestured to the boot of the car.

George showed his teeth as he smiled, "Frank, the trunk."

Frank immediately complied and stepped back as the officers approached with their flashlights. Behind them, both Frank and the other accomplice, Stanley, had the appearance of resting their hands on their hips, when in actual fact each had one hand on a gun.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for the officers to register that the trunk was empty. Taking in the fairly vacant boot-space, they exchanged a glance. It wasn't often a car matching the unique description they had been alerted for travelled the highway.

"Ok," the first officer nodded as the second retreated back to the patrol car. "I need to see all your IDs."

"Really, officer," George protested, making a show of checking his watch. "All? We have a long way to go, and you assured me this wouldn't take long." Facing the officer's steely expression, he shrugged.

"Fine," George sighed. "I had best go first." He reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet, plucking his licence from the plastic sheath and offering it to the officer.

"George Castillo." The officer frowned down at the ID. "George Castillo," he repeated. Where did he know that name from? As he recalled the origins of the name's familiarity, his head shot up and he stared at George intently. Without another word, he strode over to his partner. "Samuel," he said firmly, tapping George's licence with his index finger, "we need to check the car again."

********

"All good," Frank confirmed, settling into the drivers seat and clicking his seatbelt across his waist. Not yet starting the car, he stared contemplatively ahead a moment before speaking. "George," he ventured, "is this girl headed for one of the brothels?"

"No. Why?" George asked. Though when he'd first laid eyes on Katie, it had definitely occurred to him that he'd get a record price for her.

"She's really something. I just thought..." Frank tilted his head, recalling the delicious feel of Katie's body furiously writhing against him as he smothered the chloroformed rag across her nose and mouth. The way his hand conveniently moved up her thigh to feel her firm ass as he hurried through the lobby with her over his shoulder. Capturing both her perfect breasts in his hands as he fitted her into the car. After seeing Katie, Frank and Stanley had quickly flipped a coin to decide who would be the one to grab her, and who would take on Gerard. Frank was very glad he won the coin toss.

"No. She will not be available for your use," George replied flatly. "Speaking of, how is our little parcel?" he inquired.

"Snug as a bug, in the boot of a car," Frank grinned, starting the engine. "A magic-eye storage space," he shook his head, impressed, "you cover every contingency." He gave a shout of laugher, causing George to look at him inquiringly. "Sorry, boss," Frank explained on a cough, "it's just the way those cops knocked and called into the boot, like car whisperers."

"Frank," George's black eyes gleamed as he smiled out the passenger window, "this is certainly not the first time this car has been searched for a missing person. Nor will it be the last. Which reminds me," he frowned, fumbling around his pocket for his phone.

Frank watched interestedly from the corner of his eye as George scrolled his contacts list and dialled his selection. "Who are you calling?" he asked curiously.

"An old friend," George smirked nastily. "Who will ensure both of those insolent officers' careers go down in flames. I also would like to find out why I wasn't notified when an alert was put out on us. These are worrying times, Frank. Our Gregory was unaware of both the murder report and the police approach. It's very important to know when one is being investigated. I pay a lot of money for that privilege."