One of the men noticed. “Keep walking.”
He shoved her toward the exit. They were heading to a white van in the parking lot. Windows tinted. No plates visible from where I stood.
“Gentlemen,” I called out. “Got a minute?”
They turned. Looked at me. Six-foot-two biker covered in road dust and leather. One of them reached behind his back. Gun, probably.
“Not interested in whatever you’re selling, old man.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” I looked at the girl. “How much?”
Their expressions changed. Suspicion. But also interest.
“How much for what?”
“Don’t play stupid. I heard you through the wall. The bidding. How much for the girl?”Continue reading…
