Defective - A Psychopath's Tale

Chapter 23

Won Ton led us to where Holland's shop was from the back way and on the opposite end of the block. We were directed down an alleyway where there were loading dock doors. We drove down the alley in the darkening evening light until Lydia spotted number 72, the door Holland had indicated. As we pulled up to the door, it started to open; it only opened partway, about just enough for the Chevy to make it under the door. Once inside, the door closed us in the dark warehouse.

A single light came on centered in the area in front of us. From one of the office looking doorways a figure emerged. Once past the shadows the figure was clearly Holland.

Lydia looked over at me, her face heavy with worry and question. "Do we get out?" She cautiously asked.

I nodded slowly as I reached for the lever that opened the door. I pulled it and let the door unlatch then slowly pushed it open keeping my eyes on Holland and checking the room out with my peripheral vision. Lydia followed my lead.

"Check behind us." I whispered to her then moved out of the Chevy.

We moved forward, I saw Lydia look over the area behind us. Once past the front of the Chevy we moved together, I glanced over at her, she shook her head. She may not have noticed things I would have, or known how to spot a sniper in the rafters. We continued forward towards Holland.

"That's far enough." Holland announced as he pulled a heater from his pocket. It looked like a .45 auto long Colt & Wesson. Hell of a gun. "Please put your hands on your heads. Thank you."

Slowly I started to raise my arms, fingers extended palms out. "Good to see you Holland. Always a warm welcome."

"You too missy. Nothing but the best for you old buddy." Holland's eyes moved between Lydia and myself. "Hands out of your pockets sweet tits or I put round one between your eyes." He told Lydia.

I looked over at her, she was standing there, motionless; hands in the pockets of the black denim sleeveless jacket she wore.

"Lydia, do what he tells you, get your hands out of your pockets." I instructed her.

Holland smiled. "That's right girly, listen to what mister Wonderful told you. He may have a thing against killin' girls," His smile dropped, "but I don't"

Lydia's face tightened, her eyes flashed. "Go fuck yourself. We trusted you, this is how you greet an old friend. Shoot me, unless you don't have the balls."

"Lydia, don't piss..." I started, a shot rang out.

My head moved towards Lydia, she was still standing, only now she held a pistol of her own aimed right at Holland. She was taking a nasty risk; true, Holland wasn't good with a gun, but she didn't know that. And Holland didn't know how good of a shot Lydia was. She'd used the recoil time from Holland's shot to pull her own gun.

"Lydia, put the gun down!" I said loudly. She was pissing me off now. I calmed my tone a bit. "Lydia, this isn't helping. We need his help, let him have his way; he's just being cautious. Alright? Put it down."

She didn't give any acknowledgement she even heard me. She was firm in her stance, steady in her grip. If she pulled the trigger, Holland was a dead boy.

"No. Not until he lowers his." She snorted a short laugh. "He couldn't hit shit, not at this distance. Look at him, he don't know how to handle that gun; probably hasn't ever actually shot one before. I can take this piece of shit."

My head dropped but I kept my hands up and I sighed. "Lydia, that's not the point. Yeah, Holland isn't good with a gun..."

About that time, the reason I was trying to talk her down, one of the reasons anyways, I knew Holland; the sound of a breach opening and a round being chambered in a bolt action rifle echoed in the room. The breach closed, the crosshairs were on Lydia's head.