John crept to the door of the only motel room that had a light on, gun in hand. Sometimes Sherry’s partners need to be persuaded against making trouble. Some men found their courage hidden behind their pride. Idiots.

Voices rang out, clear through the worn motel door.

John recognized Sherry’s southern drawl immediately.

“What does that even mean?”

The other voice that responded to her sounded oddly familiar but John couldn’t place it.

“What my friend here is trying to say, is that you have some property that does not belong to you. It would be in your best interest to hand it over.” The voice was loud but smooth. The kind of voice that could separate woman from their clothes- or their men.

It took second for the subject matter to fully sink in.

Blackmail? These stupid fucks didn’t know who they were dealing with.

John burst in the door with the force of an avalanche. Two men stood there gaping, surprised looks on both of their faces. Sherry spun, pulling a gun from her purse, blue eyes wide in alarm.