Onyx and Hack took opposite ends of the street, but near enough, so they could see any interaction.
Topaz approached the door and knocked. Shortly after, she left their sight as she entered the home.
They waited a few minutes then Topaz texted them the all clear sign.
The two men started their bikes and parked, flanking the van. Onyx took the rear position.
Topaz held the door open and the men stepped inside the welcoming ranch style home. Hanging flower pots, cute décor and a welcome mat with flowers told the story of calm and tranquility. Even inside pictures of a happy family hung on the walls, a perfect example of what a nuclear family should be. Any social worker would walk in and give them an A, but it was all an act. When he was an officer these homes made him more nervous than the ones with broken chairs, flipped sofas and fuming men.
“We’re good. She packed when he left for work. Said her husband still has two hours before he gets off.”
Both Hack and Onyx stacked and hauled three suitcases apiece, then started toward the van.
A large pickup rolled into the driveway and a man got out before turning off the engine.
Topaz was still trapped inside with the woman hopefully she understood the run and load. Snag the bags if you can, but it’s the last thing you need. Especially, when you’re liable to have kids who may or may not be apt to run for daddy because they don’t understand or fear him the way you do.
Hack continued to move toward the van.
The man from the truck approached Onyx.
With the husband’s fist flying, Onyx braced for the punch. The quick drop and evade hampered by the pain in his hip. If this man hit his wife or kids as hard as he just hit him he was surprised the woman could walk. A spiderweb of pain erupted across his skull, the son of a bitch had laced his keys in his fist like they taught women in self-defense classes. At least one if not two, of the ridged surfaces raked his head.
“You think you’ll be able to get away. You son of a bitch!” the man raged, more for the neighbors than true feelings. The show was as false as the smiling faces in the photographs. “I heard about you sex traffickers. Not on my watch.”
The Steels had been accused of many things when they rescued the women. Nothing was new to the men. In fact, they expected it more times than not. Onyx finally was able to defend himself now since he truly got a vision of the man in front him. Shorter than him by only a few inches, Onyx struck out and sent the man back enough the keys dropped to the pavement. His hand open, Onyx was able to catch it and twisted his arm behind the guy’s back. The guy must have been used to being manhandled, and shifted, or maybe it was the sting from his head, but Onyx had no choice, the stumble caused the man to fall on the ground.
With a swift kick of his foot, the man caught Onyx in the ankle of his prosthetic. Onyx lost his footing. The suction holding the bottom of his leg to his top gave a bit as he kicked back and jammed his foot into the ground forcing it back in place and sending a sharp sting up his thigh bone. Adrenaline surged helping him recover quickly as he punched left then right.
The man’s head flopped on the sidewalk from side to side.
On bended knee, Onyx slammed the man one more time in the nose knocking him out onto the sidewalk.
The sound of kids crying made Onyx look up to see them standing near the doorway of the house. Their mother holding them close to her body. The cradling caring of a mother for her children, only her face was stone still. Gentle hands practically disconnected from their mother’s true feeling. He doubted the woman sporting thick makeup wanted her husband dead, but was enjoying the asshat getting a taste of his own medicine for a change.
Waking her from her disconnected state, Onyx snipped, “Get into the van now.”
The little boy’s lip trembled as he stared past his father to Onyx’s exposed metal and dark flesh colored plastic leg.
Onyx quickly pulled the bottom of his jean leg down and covered up the prosthetic. Before wiping across his face with his gloved hand, it shined with what could only be blood he knew he needed to get medical attention. But he needed to get the hell out of here before he dealt with it. Who knew how long the man would stay unconscious and people were moving from windows, peering to stepping out of their homes, some with phones.
Hack was ushering Topaz and the woman to get into the van and drive.
Onyx used the pause to check a pulse, he wasn’t going to do a full cognition test, but he could be content in knowing at least the man’s heart and lungs work. In his mind, the man didn’t have a functioning brain before Onyx smashed his face. What did it matter if he did now?
Onyx got onto his bike, this time he added his helmet hoping the pressure would help the cut on his head and turned over the engine. The smaller town allowed them to speed away, leaving the man lying on the sidewalk without so much as a siren sounded.
After they drove out of the town, Onyx knew he needed to have his head looked at. Blood continued to drip into his eye and he had to constantly wipe at it. Tapping his phone, he answered Hack.
“What’s wrong?” Hack’s voice sounded in the helmet.
