A red hole appeared smack in the middle of the man's forehead.'Still got the touch,' Dean winked. He turned towards the two men at his back, their grins accompanying that of their boss.
'You always were a crack-shot, kid. Took to shooting like a duck to water.'
The older of the two men clapped Dean on the shoulder. 'Real proud of you, boy.'
'Not so much with the boy, Jeb. I'm all grown-up now.'
'Get back to the club, kid. Dave and I'll clean up here,' Jeb said, insisting with the 'kid'.
:
He delivered a kick to the recent corpse lying on the ground. 'Some chains and a chunk of concrete and we'll never see his ugly mug again. Fucker!'
'The shipment will be arriving this afternoon,' Dave chipped in. 'We know how you like to be there in person, Dean. Welcome them in. Never thought the human touch would end up being way more profitable than threats.'
'You gotta know how to treat the ladies,' Dean winked. 'The carrot gets more rewards than the whip. Though that has its uses too when applied with talent.'
The three men shared a last chuckle, then Dean made his way back to his car while Jeb and Dave dealt with the dear departed!
The man he'd killed already forgotten, Dean slipped into his Porsche.
It wasn't the first person he'd terminated, nor would it be the last. The family's establishments were strictly monitored. The girls certainly weren't to be roughed up to strangulation point by drugged-up clients.
:
Singer's Establishments offered all kinds of services, even the most extreme, but only if the girl was okay with it, which Bella had definitely NOT been.
The brothel 'Hot Springs', the Dakota section of Robert Singer's vast empire, was a flourishing business.
Many criminals reckoned organized prostitution was something that belonged in the past, turning up their noses at it, believing there were far more profitable, modern ways of making money.
Once Dean had asked Bobby why he hadn't considered diversifying his business.
The reply had been short and simple. 'My grandpa back at the turn of the last century started out by opening a modest 'house' in Sioux Falls. What was good enough for my forebearers is good enough for me. The money rolls in as it is, I don't need to go looking for trouble with drug runners and slavers.'
That the money flowed into the organization's bank accounts was true. Singer's brothels were busier than a toy store at Christmas.
As he drove, Dean imagined pleasurably what the new women might be like.
They had scouts out recruiting young girls who had just taken to the streets or had run away from home, offering them a job before drugs and the horror of having to prostitute themselves there reduced any beauty they had to 'hag' level.
Some of them refused, but the majority accepted the deal.
:
In exchange for becoming one of Singer's girls, they received a barrowload of perks, and when it came to retiring, which for the women was when they were still young enough to find a regular job, they got a lump sum and even a small pension.
Dean always liked to greet the newcomers himself, his good looks favorably impressing those who were still in trepidation at handing their lives over to Singer and Co.
Although he had an apartment in Sioux Falls, and not only, Dean resided on the ranch. He'd grown up here and the people who lived and worked for Singer had become his family.
:
After a shower and a change of clothes, he made his way to the entrance hall, where Ellen Harvelle was already waiting.
'Dean,' she nodded. 'Do we know how many girls are arriving?'
'I was told eight,' Dean replied with a shrug.' But you know how these things go. Sometimes one or two change their minds. It's their loss. Better here than taking their chances on the street.'
'Amen to that,' Ellen replied, remembering her own dangerous life before she'd ended up as one of Bobby's girls.
:
The cloud of dust on the horizon announced the van's arrival. It pulled up smoothly at the front entrance.
'Dean,' the driver said with a grin, getting out of the cab. 'Got some real pretty ones here, plus a little surprise.
Raising an eyebrow, Dean stared at him. Things were always planned out to a tee, surprises were the exception rather than the rule.
'A surprise?' he repeated, but Ted, the driver, had moved away to attend to his cargo.
At the opening of the side door, the girls began to climb out one after the other until all eight were lined up in front of Dean.
With a charming smile, he strode forward, his shrewd eyes assessing the merchandise.
:
Although the girls were well-treated, at the end of the day Singer's Establishment was a business, and the human assets had to be vetted just like in any other activity.
He could see they were agitated, worried that the deal offered them might be bait for death at the hands of some pervert, but somehow at the sight of Dean's engaging smile, they calmed down, as he knew they would.
'Ladies. Welcome to Singer's Establishment. I know you're all a little anxious right now, but don't worry. Soon you'll feel right at home.'
:
By this time Ellen had stepped forward to stand at Dean's side.
Nodding to the girls, she introduced herself. 'My name's Ellen and I'll be looking after you. Now if you'll just come along with me, we'll get you settled in.'
Exchanging glances, the girls slowly followed her, encouraged by her business-like manner, while Dean studied their asses as they turned and walked towards the door.
They seemed adequate, even if half of them were too skinny. Dean liked his women with curves in the right places, though he knew not all the clients were on his same wavelength.
He shrugged. There would be a week's training before they got the first client to deal with. In any case, Ellen knew how to do her job.
Once the little group had disappeared into the building, he turned back to the driver.
'Said you had a surprise, Ted?'
'Come on out,' the driver called. There was a shuffle from inside the van and a young guy exited the vehicle.
Well, it was certainly a surprise, though Dean couldn't have said exactly what kind!
:
'Is this a joke?' he declared, glaring at Ted.
'Found the kid on a street corner where I was picking up the girls. He insisted he come too,' Ted replied.
'Uh…and you let him?' Dean asked incredulously.
The driver sighed. 'Dunno, man. He said he was looking for work and I kinda felt sorry for him.'
'Sorry for him? I didn't know we were turning into a charity, Ted! Get him back in the van and leave him where you found him.'
:
'No, please. Don't send me back. I'll do anything. Odd jobs, gardening, anything….'' the kid burst out with a mangled cry.
Dean cocked his head and studied him. Torn jeans, a stroppy shirt, and a jacket that could have only come from a charity shop.
The bone structure of the young guy's face had a whiff of exotic, topped off by a head of artlessly tousled hair. He was as tall if not taller than Dean, with wide shoulders and narrow hips.
If the ranch had been a male brothel, the kid would've been a catch, but here was female only. The clients seemed to like it that way and Bobby had never thought to change it.
'A job, huh! Just how did you know my driver was going to be picking up new girls today?'
'I asked around, looking for work and overheard there might be a chance out here if I could convince the driver to take me.'
'Sorry, kid. To get a job you have to have great boobs and a perky ass. You're missing the boobs and I can't judge your ass beneath the rags you're wearing. Now, I think I've wasted enough time with you…. You got a name?'
'It's Sam. Sam Campbell."
'Sam...' Dean hesitated a moment, the name bringing back faint, forgotten memories of another life.
'I'm begging you. I'll do anything. If I go back he'll….'
To this day, Dean couldn't fathom why he didn't kick the kid into the van.
'Fine,' he sighed after a moment's meditation. 'You can report to Ellen. She'll find work for you to do. There's always something needing to be repaired.'
He raised a warning finger. 'If I find anything shady going on, you won't be sent back, but you might end up with an extra hole in your body. I'll have no qualms in putting it there myself.
You got that, kid? Anyone who betrays my trust doesn't live long enough to take another breath.'
The boy gulped, but he nodded. 'I understand. And thanks.'
'Be sure you do.' Dean threw in the last word before making his way inside, the kid at his heels.
:
There was a luxurious waiting area just inside the doors. 'Take a seat. I'll tell Ellen to send someone for you. Have you got a phone? '
'No.'
'Fine. Cos you'd have to hand it over.'
With that, Dean made his way through the door marked private. He needed to think. Why had he agreed to let the kid stay? It irked him that he had no rational explanation for having done so. However, if this 'Sam' turned out to be a plant from some other organization, it'd be child's play to get rid of him.
Dean didn't worry about Sam being sent by the police. With the benefits the corrupt agents received in flesh and bribes, he had no fear of that!
:
Sam sat on the edge of a padded chair. He'd managed to get into the place but this Dean person looked as if he meant every word he said. If he wasn't careful, he'd bite a bullet. He was caught in the middle, damned if he did, damned if he didn't.
tbc