Chapter 2: Mr. Big

I nodded. I found the motel easily enough. It was a little tiny place, only twelve rooms to rent and an office. The old man at the desk gave me a key without asking any questions and, much to my surprise, Abby was still in the car when I got back. "I'm surprised you didn't run," I told her as I parked the car in front of room three.

Abby shrugged. "It's too far to walk and the buses don't come out here. A cab ride would cost me more than I made tonight. I know I'm just a young whore to you, but I don't want to get raped tonight. It would ruin my plans. So that rules out walking and hitching."

I was willing to let her go on thinking whatever she wanted about me. As long as she stuck around until morning and I could reunite her with her mother. We got out of the car. Neither one of us had a bag or a change of clothes. I unlocked the door and went in. As Abby had said, the place was not too bad at all. Two queen sized beds, a color TV and a bathroom that did not leak or stink. What more could a heaven-sent agent ask for.

"I'm gonna go grab a shower," I told Abby, once the door closed. "You gonna be here when I get out?"

She shrugged, crashed down on to the bed near the door and scooped up the remote. I just shook my head. With my gun still being in my coat pocket, I kept all my clothes on until I was in the bathroom and the door was locked. I set the gun on the sink. I started the water, got it to the right temperature and stripped off my clothes. That warm water sure felt good.

I finished my shower in record time. I was worried that if I took too long Abby would be gone. I know it does not make sense. She really only needed a minute or two to get out the door and down the road a bit but for some reason I felt that she would stay—as long as I did not take too long. So, I rushed. I did manage to get all the important parts washed and I shaved, too.

It was my first chance to get a good look at myself. I still had brown hair and blue eyes as I had in my previous life but my hair was now cut short and my eyes were a slightly lighter shade of blue. I still stood about six feet tall and probably weighed around one seventy or one eighty. I had muscles everywhere, arms, chest, abdomen, even my butt and thighs. I had already noticed my cock was larger. In my previous existence, I had had a meager six inches. It was now more like eight or nine when hard. I was perfectly happy with what the Almighty had given me to work with.

I slipped my shorts back on but carried the rest of my clothes with me. I saw no reason to be modest. Abby and I had seen everything there was to see at the other motel. I laid my pants out carefully and put the shirt on top hoping they would not be wrinkled the next morning. I should have thought to grab some clothes but I am sure if I had, Abby would have run to India and would be back at Ms. Crystal's house.

Abby was still in the room. Like me, she had thrown modesty to the wind and had undressed. She had stripped down to her matching black bra and panties and was in the same bed, the covers pulled up over her to her waist. She had propped the pillows up behind her and was sitting up, leaning against the pillows and the wall. She was even more adorable in this light than she had been in the darkness of my motel room back in the city.

I gave her a quick smile, climbed into the other bed, and slid under the covers. I set the alarm on the nightstand for nine in the morning and then looked over at her. "You gonna be here in the morning?"

She did not take her eyes off the TV or say a word. She gave me a quick nod. I glanced over at the TV and recognized the old movie she was watching. I had not been interested in seeing it the first time. I sure was not interested now. I rolled over, facing away from Abby, fluffed my pillows, and laid down. "You might want to get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow, and we're already going to be shy on sleep."

She did not respond. I didn't really expect her to. I fully expected her, being the fifteen-year-old girl that she was, to rebel against any authority and do exactly the opposite of what I told her. Abby's sleep schedule wasn't my problem so I left her alone, turned off the light and went to sleep.

I woke up to the sound of glass breaking. I didn't bother to sit up or even look to see what had happened. I just threw off the covers and rolled out of the bed on the side away from the window. The room was dark and silent. "Abby?" I shouted.

"What the hell is going on?" she shouted back.

I got up my nerves and peeked over the bed. I could hear someone clearing away the glass from the pane. Someone else reached in, grabbed the curtains and pushed them out of the way.

'Fuck!' I thought. I had slipped the pistol into the pocket of my pants, intending to get it out and place it under my pillow. But I had forgotten. My clothes were over the chair at the foot of my bed. "Abby, get on the floor. Now!" I watched as she did the same thing I had, curling up and rolling off the bed.

A very large man sat himself on the windowsill, lifted his legs and spun himself around so he was in the room. His legs easily reached over the air conditioning unit and he stood up, knocking a chair aside as he stood. He came around Abby's bed. Thanks to the light pouring in from the parking lot through the broken window, I could see him smile down at her.

I didn't wait any longer. I jumped to my feet, hoping these guys wouldn't shoot a guy in nothing but his underwear, and dove for my pants, landing on my stomach right in front of the chair. I yanked my pants down onto the floor and groped for the gun.

Someone, I think it was the big man, laughed and I could hear footsteps. My hand touched the butt of the gun through the fabric of my pants. A second later, my finger found the trigger. I did not bother looking for the opening to the pocket, I rolled onto my back, aimed my pants at the big guy who was now glancing between Abby and I, and pulled the trigger. I had never reset the safety. The report of the gun in such close quarters deafened me for a second. Even with the concussion, I heard Abby's scream as the big man's brains flew out the left side of his head and splattered onto the bed she had been sleeping in.

The big man had not even hit the floor when I had pulled the gun from my pants pocket and jumped to my feet. The second guy was still outside the window staring at his friend's head as Mr. Big slowly hit the ground. He was already dead. His body just had not fallen down yet.

I was on my feet, the gun pointed right at Snerdly, which is the name I gave him in my mind. He looked like a Snerdly, tiny little guy, no more than five foot five or so, scrawny, balding with thick glasses. I guessed he was the brains of the pair while Mr. Big was the muscle. I couldn't shoot Snerdly. Yes, he had aided his buddy breaking in but he was not actually in the room. If I shot him while he was still outside, I could not claim self-defense.

I ran at him, keeping the gun leveled between his eyes. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him bodily into the room, tossed him to the floor at my feet, dropped my knee right in to his gut and then placed the tip of the barrel of my Glock to his left temple.

Mr. Big had finally fallen and had apparently fallen right on top of Abby because she still was not on her feet and was screaming hysterically. I figured if she was screaming, she could not be badly hurt and I still had Snerdly to worry about.

Snerdly was trying to remember how to breathe, so I took the opportunity to scan the parking lot outside to see if Snerdly and Mr. Big had an acquaintance, maybe someone waiting in a get-away car. I saw a light blue, four-door sedan sitting outside, right behind my Camaro, but it was empty. If they had a partner, he was hidden. Satisfied, I grabbed Snerdly's collar, stood up, yanked him up with me and dragged him to a spot right in front of the main door.

"Abby, can you hear me?" I shouted when she stopped screaming.

"Ye ... yeah, I can hear you."

"Just stay where you are. Don't worry about the big guy. He's dead. He isn't going to hurt you. I don't think there's anyone else out there but I'm not sure yet. Just stay down. Don't even put a pinky up on that bed."

"O ... Okay," was her only response.

Satisfied that my charge was safe, I turned my attention back to Snerdly. I jammed the barrel of the pistol into Snerdly's mouth, forced him to look up at me and then smiled my best evil smile. "You're gonna tell me who sent you and what your assignment was or I'm going to shoot you. Got it?" He nodded and I pulled the pistol from his mouth.

"We were sent for the girl."

"Why?"

"I ... I don't know. We were supposed to take her and bring her back."

"To whom?"

"I ... I can't tell. He'll kill me."

Without even looking down, I moved the gun and pulled the trigger. The gun fired and Snerdly screamed as the bullet ripped into his left knee.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to kill you and I'm going to personally make sure you die in horrible pain."

Snerdly was now crying and holding his knee which had a massive bleeding hole in the center of it. I don't know how I made the shot because I never even looked down.

"Abby, you okay over there?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Just hold on another minute and we'll be out of here."

I got down on one knee, putting my face only inches from Snerdly. "Who sent you?" I asked, trying to sound calm but menacing at the same time.

"His name's Robert Richards! That's all I know!"

I thought about this for a second. I had no clue who the hell Robert Richards was but I knew that Snerdly was telling me the truth, at least as far as he knew it. I could just feel it.

I had what I needed from Snerdly. I slammed the butt of the gun across his jaw and he crumpled to the side, unconscious. Satisfied he was not going to be causing me any more problems, I stood up and moved to the window. I scanned the parking lot once more to see if Snerdly and Mr. Big had brought help but, except for a few fellow guests at the Inn, no one else seemed to be moving.

I pulled the curtains closed. "Abby, get up. Get dressed. Hurry!"

"Is it safe?"

"I guarantee it. If you're still worried, get your clothes and go in the bathroom."

Abby stood up and I gave her a quick once over. I didn't see any injuries on her or even a drop of blood. Apparently, she had gotten out of the way before Mr. Big crashed to the floor. We passed as we both went to retrieve our clothes. She apparently decided she did not need to go to the bathroom to dress because she stepped into her pants right there at the foot of her bed.

"Did you kill 'em both?"

"No. Mr. Big is dead. Snerdly over there is just unconscious. Although, I doubt he'll be running the marathon any time soon." I picked up my pants and found the drawback to firing your gun while it was still in your pants pocket. I now had a burn hole in the bottom of my pocket and another in the pant leg. "Damn it!" I groaned and pulled them on. "Do you happen to know who Robert Richards is?" I asked Abby.

"No," she said, a quiver of fear still in her voice. "I have no idea. Why were they after me?"

"No idea, darling. I aim to find out, though. I figure I'll run into Mr. Robert Richards eventually. Who knows. Maybe your former employer can give me a clue as to his whereabouts."

"Are there gonna be others?"

"Not today, darling," I told her trying to sound confident. "I doubt Mr. Richards would send out two teams for one little girl. He'll probably wait all day for these two before deciding that they aren't going to report in. It'll be at least tomorrow before he sends anyone else. Does Ms. Crystal know the address of your mother's house?" Abby did not speak. She just shook her head. "Good, so you should be safe there until I can find Mr. Richards and find out exactly why it is he's after you."

We both had our pants and shirt on. We took a seat and put on our shoes, or in my case, my boots.

"What about the cops?"

"I'm trying to figure that one out myself."

By now, I was sure someone had called the cops. They would probably pull up outside at any moment. No chance of getting away which meant we would have to talk to them. I had no idea what to tell them. How could I explain Abby and I being together or Snerdly and Mr. Big, or the gun in my pants? I was at a complete and total loss. The only idea I had was to tell the truth and that sounded like a real bad idea if I wanted Abby to stay alive for more than another day or so.

"Why don't we run?"

Almost as if on cue, I could hear the sirens from the police cars. They were close. "We don't have time."

"What about the window?"

I looked up at her, confused. "What about the window?"

"We could go through the window and out."

"Right into the parking lot," I told her pointing to the broken window.

"Not that window. The one in the bathroom. It's small but I think we could fit."

She was still talking while I headed into the bathroom. She followed me. She was right. There was a window in the bathroom. I wondered how I could have missed it before. She was also right that she could fit through it. I thought I might fit too, but I was not worried about that. I jumped up on the toilet and pulled the window open. It had been painted shut, but, with my new God-given strength, I easily pulled it open. I remembered that behind the motel was a line of woods that would be perfect for what I had in mind.

I got off the toilet and looked at Abby. "You just saved us both. I want you to go out the window. Run to the trees. You can't see them from the window but I know they're there. Get over there and hide yourself." I could see the panic rising in her eyes as soon as I said it. "Listen. The motel manager can identify me. They know I am here. I can't run. If I do, I'll look guilty and they'll be looking for me forever. That will make my job much, much harder. No one here has seen you. I didn't tell the manager about you. When the window and curtains were open, you were hidden. By the time you came out, the curtains were closed. No one's seen you and I can't come up with a good explanation of why we're together. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. It will be much easier, and much quicker, if I talk to the cops alone. As soon as everyone is gone, you can come out and go to the Waffle House across the street. As soon as I can, I'll come get you. Don't worry, you will be safe. Please Abby?"

I could still see the fear in her eyes but she nodded. I helped her onto the toilet and she was about halfway out the window when the cops knocked on the door. "Mr. Knight," a cop shouted through the broken window. "This is the police."

"Just a minute," I yelled out. Abby got out the window and to the ground. I watched as she ran halfway across the clearing. Confident no one had seen her, I closed the window, left the bathroom, moved Snerdly from in front of the door, and opened it. There were three cops at the door, each with their own pistol drawn and ready to shoot me. I put up my arms in surrender. They rushed in, pinned me to the bed, and took the gun from my pocket.

The cops insisted I come down to the station with them and tell them everything that happened. I told them the truth, or as much of the truth as I could. I made sure to leave Abby's existence out of the story. Apparently, Snerdly had come to before they carted him off to the hospital, but he wouldn't talk without a lawyer. I couldn't help but think that that was a good thing. If he had told them he was there to get Abby, it could have caused me all kinds of problems.

It had been just after five in the morning when Snerdly and Mr. Big came knocking. It was after ten by the time the cops dropped me off at the motel so I could pick up my car. I had given them the motel in town I had been staying at as my place of residence. The cops and a right friendly district attorney had told me that they did not believe any charges would be filed against me because everything I did was justifiable. As it turns out, Adam Knight is a registered bounty hunter. I had found a valid drivers license and a permit to carry a concealed weapon in my wallet.

Once back at the motel, I went to the manager's office and gave him a credit card I had also found in my wallet to pay for the damages to the room: the window, the carpet that Mr. Big had bled on, and the sheets splattered with Mr. Big's brain matter. With that taken care of, I checked out, got in my car, and headed for the Waffle House across the street. I cannot tell you how relieved I was when Abby ran up and threw her arms around me. The cops had not fed me, so we returned to Abby's table and I ordered us both some breakfast.

It was 11:15 when we left the waffle house. Abby promised me that it was only another twenty minutes or so to her mother's house so we headed that way. I was not as confident as I was earlier that Mr. Richards' boys could not find the house where Abby's mother lived. When we got into the right neighborhood, Abby and I took a few laps around looking for anyone or anything that did not belong.

The neighborhood was older and run down. Most of the houses there were not actually houses. They were mobile homes. The few houses that were not movable were old, small clapboard style homes. The lawns were poorly cared for and most had garbage of one kind or another strewn about the yard. In my old life, I would have classified the area as "white trash central." Ms. Thorson's house was one of those clapboard homes, one story, two bedrooms, maybe eight hundred square feet of space if you were generous with your measurements.

I spotted the green Chevy on the first lap around the neighborhood. It just did not fit. The car was probably the only new car for five blocks in any direction. The fact that it was sitting in the road, not in a driveway like every other car on the street, and the fact that two men in dark suits were just sitting there were clear indications they were waiting for something.

"Abby, I don't think I'm gonna be able to take you home right yet," I told her as I turned down a side street, heading away from her mother's house.

"Why?"

"Did you see the green car we passed?" She shook her head no. "There were two men in the car. Any idea why they would be there?"

"Do you think they saw us?"

"I don't think they were looking for our car. I think they were waiting for me to drop you off at your mother's house. Once you were home and comfortable, they would have come after you again. Whoever this Mr. Richards is, he seems desperate to get his hands on you. I don't think you'll be safe at your mother's house. Not until I've dealt with Mr. Richards anyway."

"So what now?"

"Back to the city," I told her as I turned back onto the road that would lead us back to the interstate and take us back to the city.

"What do we do back in the city?"

"I'll find someplace safe for you and then I'm going to go have a talk with Ms. Crystal."

"You're just going to leave me somewhere?"

"Don't worry, Abby. Remember, my job is to keep you safe and get you home. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that happens. Okay?" I reached over, grabbed her tiny hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. That got me a quick smile. After that though, she turned to the window and stared out at the road and the passing landscape as we headed back to the city. She did not speak to me the whole way.

I had no idea where I was going to put Abby up at. I needed somewhere the bad guys would not think to look and no one would ask any awkward questions about me leaving her behind. The problem was I didn't know anyone in this city. Actually, that was not true.

Adam Knight seemed to know many people, and I even had a few memories of these people, mostly people from The Beaver's Lodge and Ms. Crystal's place. I knew I could not take Abby with me to Ms. Crystal's. It was simply out of the question. There were too many people there Abby considered friends, including Ms. Crystal. If things got rough, she might be a hindrance or worse. She could be a target. In addition, there was a good chance that Mr. Richards, whoever he might be, would have his goons watching there also.