Backyard Dungeon 7 Chapter 2

The rage I felt toward Brock Stanton wasn’t the same burning hatred I’d felt toward Ursenger. The Mad Chief had been a literal monster who’d killed or imprisoned anyone who got in his way. Stanton was just a pee-brain wrapped in a swinging dick, who couldn’t stand that he wasn’t king of his pathetic little hill anymore.

But just like Ursenger, Brock needed to be brought down a few pegs.

As the bull-necked asshole’s fist sailed over my head, I came back up with a right hook of my own and caught Brock right on the jaw. I could hear my wives and the delivery men shout behind me, but my ears rang from the rush of adrenaline that pumped through my veins. Stanton’s head snapped back as he stumbled back a couple feet, and a dumb look of surpirse flashed across his fat face.

“Go home, Brock,” I snarled as I turned my body to the side and raised my fists, ready for the next round. “You don’t want to do this, trust me.”

“You arrogant little prick!” Brock growled as his wide face went beet red, and he came at me again.

The bald man threw another haymaker, but I blocked it with my left arm as I brought my right around and hit the bastard hard in the gut.

Stanton had probably been a force to reckon with ten years ago. There was definitely muscle somewhere under a layer of blubber from the years Brock had spent behind a desk. The type A dickbag was slow and a little out of shape, but he was still strong as fuck. Stanton started to double over as my fist connected with his trunk, but he immediately brought his head back up so the back of his skull smashed into my lower jaw and caused my teeth to clank together painfully.

I was stunned for half a second by the impact, and the bull-necked prick got in a gut punch.

“Urgh!” I growled as I gritted my teeth, but then I slammed my right fist into the side of Brock’s head.

I noticed a slight coppery taste of blood in my mouth and realized the back of Brock’s head must have busted my lip. But as Stanton reeled back from my head shot, I gave him a quick left jab right to his pug nose and felt a crunch as it broke.

“Arrrgh!” Brock grunted as he brought a hand up to touch his face and brought it away bloody. “What the fuck!”

Then Stanton lowered his shoulder and made to spear me to the ground, but I was ready for that.

Brock had maybe thirty pounds on me, but I had almost half a foot on him. As the wide bodied man tried to drive his shoulder into my trunk, I wrapped my arms around his torso and twisted as we fell to the grass. We hit the ground hard, but I quickly got on top of Stanton and swung at the side of his head so hard I rang his bell.

Brock’s eyes glazed over, and the lower half of his face was painted red from the flow of blood from his ruined nose. Then I felt hands on me from behind and nearly swung on one of the delivery guys as he tried to pull me off Brock.

“You rat bastard!” Stanton shouted as he started to recover his senses and reached for me, but two more of the guys from the furniture store moved in to grab Brock’s arms and dragged him away from me. “Get the fuck off me!”

I panted a little as the ringing in my ears started to fade, and I looked around.

“You good?” the young guy who held my arm asked.

The delivery guy who’d pulled me off Brock was probably nineteen and looked like a linebacker. He had a tight fade and wore a company polo and a lifting belt to match.

“Yeah.” I nodded, and then I glanced at the name embroidered on the kid’s shirt. “Thanks, Darryl.”

“Your lip’s all fucked up,” Darryl mentioned as he pointed to my face.

Then my wives were around me, and their expressions went anywhere from concerned to pissed.

As Brock swore at the two movers who still held him back, Ibseth took my face in her hands and gently dabbed at my busted up lip with a clean paper towel she must have gotten from the house.

“That stupid brute,” my first wife fussed, and Darryl walked over to help his co-workers with Stanton. “You showed him, my king.”

“Nileme and Bolra held me back,” Amrila complained as she glanced over to where the bald man sat on the grass. “Or I would have helped you beat the shit out of him.”

“This was Eddie’s fight,” Nileme replied in a quiet, calm voice. “And it’s not as if he can handle that-- what was that word?-- blowhard by himself.”

Then I heard the siren in the distance and inwardly cringed.

God dammit.

“Did one of the delivery men call the cops?” I asked with a sigh.

“Yes.” Amrila nodded as she continued to glare daggers at Brock. “About the time that Stanton hit your face with the back of his head. I told them not to.”

Once the bald man also heard the siren, I watched face sober, and he narrowed his eyes at me.

At least Brock finally calmed down.

A minute later, a squad car pulled into the cul-de-sac with its lights flashing, and it stopped right in front of my new house. I considered whether or not I should try to call Jack, but I figured he and Ertha were still on the road. Plus, I wasn’t in the wrong. Brock had come onto my property and started shit.

Two officers got out of the squad car. Both of them were women, and I recognized one of them.

“Hey, Officer Keller.” I smiled, and my lip throbbed a little. “Good to see you again.”

I recognized the black, female officer from the time when Triston Stanton had peeped through the trailer window at Ibseth and me. But Keller hadn’t met any of my wives on that occasion.

The look on the two officers’ faces as they walked toward us was priceless.

“And you didn’t want to take this call,” I heard the shorter, dark-haired woman say quietly to Keller.

“Mr. Hill.” Keller nodded at me with a hint of a smile. “I presume you’re not armed this time?”

“No, ma’am.” I shook my head. “You got a new partner, I see.”

“Yep,” the professional woman said as she looked at the brunette next to her. “This is Officer Ridenour. Rosie, why don’t you go get Mr. Stanton’s statement?”

“Sure thing.” Officer Ridenour nodded as she strode over to Brock and the delivery guys. “You men can go stand next to your vehicles. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Now,” Officer Keller huffed as she pulled out a small notepad and pen, “please tell me what happened?”

“This is my property,” I explained and tried to be as brief as I possibly could. “Ms. Sidorov here rents from me, and we were helping her move in. Then Stanton came over, yelling and causing a scene. When I asked him to leave, he swung at me.”

“Mmhmm.” Keller nodded as she wrote down some notes. “And what was Mr. Stanton yelling about when he first walked up?”

“He was mad that my husband has bought the house next to his house,” Ibseth replied.

The officer looked up at the house next to us, then over at the McMillian place with a surprised expression.

“How many houses do you own?” Keller asked, but her tone was more curious and casual than before.

“Four,” I replied, since I knew she’d be able to look it up if she wanted to anyway. “And one is in escrow. I figure they’re a good investment, and a source of passive income.”

“And all you ladies rent from Mr. Hill here?” Keller asked, and I could feel my stomach tighten at the line of questions.

“No.” Ibseth shook her head. “I am Eddie’s wife. That is our house over there. These are my friends, Amrila, Nileme, and Bolra. We are all cosplayers. We do the ‘live action role playing.’”

I held my breath as my first wife spoke and watched Officer Keller’s expression go from curious to “not my problem” in a flash.

“Oookay,” Keller said and put her pen away. “I’m just going to ask these workmen a few questions. You all sit tight.”

The policewoman walked over to the delivery trucks where the furniture store employees waited, and Ibseth looked up at me.

“Did I do alright, beloved?” the white-haired woman asked in a quiet tone.

“I think so,” I murmured as I let out a deep breath. “Good job, baby.”

I was pretty sure Officer Keller realized that whatever was between these wild looking women and I was far more than she wanted to deal with today, and I hoped that would compel the officers to wrap this up quickly.

My wives and I waited for a few minutes more, and then Officer Keller and Ridenour came back over to where my wives and I stood on the lawn. I glanced over to where Brock fumed a few yards away, and I took it he wasn’t happy. Stanton looked like he had to take a massive shit and couldn't.

“So,” Keller said in a brisk tone, “the gentlemen over there corroborate your story. They say you acted in self defense. Do you want to press charges?”

Yeah, I really did.

It would feel good to see Brock dragged away in handcuffs. Maybe sue him in small claims court, too. But I really didn’t want any further legal scrutiny on my life. Meyer was good at what he did, but there was no sense in drawing attention to myself that could lead to questions about where my money came from, or my wives’ citizenship.

“No.” I shook my head and said it loud enough for Stanton to hear. “As long as he promises to let whatever grudge he’s got against me drop. I don’t see any reason to press charges that could hurt Stanton’s business or standing in the community. That just wouldn’t be neighborly. I’ll let this drop if you will, Brock?”

The bull-necked man looked furious as he pressed a tissue someone had given him to his bloodied nose.

I knew why he was pissed too. I not only got to be the bigger man right now, but if he said no, I also had the power to affect his life in a way he’d failed to affect mine. I had him by the balls, and he knew it.

“Fine,” was all Stanton said.

“Well, then…” Officer Ridenour smiled as she stole one last look at the ladies. “Since Mr. Stanton has refused an ambulance, looks like we’re done here.”

“What the fuck is a cosplayer?” I heard Keller ask Ridenour as they walked back to their prowler.

The officers pulled away as Brock walked back to his house with his tail tucked between his legs.I was pretty sure the bald man would have to avoid the office for a week or two, because he already had two black eyes.

Good.

The delivery guys recounted my fight with Brock, blow by blow and seemed pretty impressed by the whole thing as they finished unloading the furniture.

“I thought for sure you were going to wreck that guy.” Darryl grinned as he handed me the clipboard to sign for the delivery. “I mean, more than you did.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “Sorry to put you and the other guys in the middle of that. I don’t usually get into fist fights in the middle of the day.”

“It’s cool.” Darryl shrugged. “Most exciting thing that’s ever happened on a delivery.”

Once the furniture guys were gone, we walked through Amrila’s new house.

The whole place had a lux, sexy kinda quality to it, and the soft gray walls kept the red accents from being too oppressive.

“I love it,” the Zencarri woman purred as she put her arms around me. “Thank you, partner.”

“My pleasure, partner.” I grinned and kissed the horned woman.

Just then, my phone went off in my pocket, so I pulled myself away from my smoking hot wife and looked at the display.

It was Owen.

“Hey, man,” I answered the phone as the ladies walked around the rest of the house. “How’s it going?”

“Morning to you, Eddie,” I heard McElfresh’s deep brogue reply. “I’m having a hell of a good morning, and you’re about to be the same.”

“Really?” I chuckled as I sat down on the crushed velvet couch. “What happened?”

“Well,” Owen said in a cheery tone, “sounds like Mr. Brent Taylor managed to evade the authorities after all. Bless his cotton socks.”

“Oh, shit.” I was surprised. “Do we know where he is?”

“Of course,” the Irishman snorted. “I’m not about to let a little shit like that out of my sights. Turns out he got all the way to Venezuela. He must have spent at least half of what I left in his account on bribes getting into the country.”

“And we’re sure he can’t do any crazy tech shit to get back at us?” I asked as I got up and started to pace to clear my head. “He did make his initial fortune in Silicon Valley.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s some kinda genius,” Owen replied. “He just made some file sharing app that got popular for a minute and sold it to the highest bidder. I’ve got some boys keeping an eye on him just in case, though.”

“Alright.” I nodded. “What about the investigation? Do you know what the cops think happened out at the lakehouse?”

“Since Taylor fled,” McElfresh said in a more serious tone, “he looks suspicious as fuck. There’s a couple theories going around, and the Feds are fighting with the local boys over jurisdiction. Since Taylor skipped the country, a couple agencies say they’ve got a claim to the case. It's a big mess right now, which is good for us.”

“But what are their theories?” I asked, because I wanted to be sure none of them would lead back to Owen or me. “Have they found any evidence at the house on Lake Erie?”

“Nah,” the Irishman snickered. “Taylor was smart enough to erase the harddrives on his and Mancini’s computers and grabbed up all the cellphones from the dead gangsters. No physical evidence I’ve heard about. Right now they think either Taylor did it all himself and ran off with some money, or maybe fled for his life. The other theory is Taylor maybe hired a hitman or two on that dark web.”

“I’m sure the second theory will get some traction,” I speculated. “They had to have found the cut phone and internet lines. And some forensic team will probably be able to put together our path through the house.”

“Life isn’t like it is on those cop shows,” Owen remarked. “The fuzz only cares as far as making sure that whatever happened is over now. They just see some dead, career criminals and some kid who wanted to play cops and robbers. No corporation lost money. There wasn’t any drugs, weapons, or human trafficking. No civilians are going to complain. There’s just nothing sexy in it for them.”

“Then why are all these agencies fighting for the case?” I asked since I was a little confused.

“Pissing contest?” McEflresh said in a dismissive voice. “Or maybe they all want dibs if the investigation does turn up something sexy. But as far as I can tell, there isn’t anything to connect us to it. But I’ll keep an ear out all the same.”

“And this is what made your morning so good?” I chuckled as I looked out the front window to my houses across the cul-de-sac.

“I haven’t gotten to the good part yet,” Owen replied. “You should check your bank accounts. Meyer’s sprinkled his fairy dust on our ill gotten gains. We’re rich as fuck now, love.”

“How rich?” I asked and was now intrigued.

“About three point five million richer,” I heard the Irishman chuckle. “Doesn’t that just put a spring in your step?”

“Fucking right, it does.” I nodded.

“You enjoy the day, now,” Owen said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Treat yourself to something nice.”

“You too, Owen.” I grinned, and then I hung up the phone.

Three point five million dollars.

That almost doubled my current liquid funds.

I walked through the house to find my wives where they had gathered in the back bedroom.

“This will be a wonderful room for a baby one day,” Ibseth said as she looked around the spare room.

There wasn’t any furniture in there at the time, since Amrila hadn’t decided what to do with it yet.

“That is true.” The Zencarri woman nodded as she looked out the window into the small backyard. “Or a place for another wife when Eddie takes a few more. I’ll be a wonderful mother, but until then, I’d just like to see it put to good use.”

“You sharing your house willingly?” I snorted as I walked into the room. “That's quite a change.”

“Time with Ibseth has made me soft,” the horned woman joked as she put an affectionate arm around the curvy Elf. “How did your call with Owen go?”

“Really good,” I replied as all my hot wives looked around at me. “Looks like I’m in the clear for now, and I came out richer, too. I’m thinking about what to do with some of this money. The McMillian place is already paid for, and the money for any renovations that Bolra might want is in her account. Is there anything you ladies have been wanting?”

“I think it’s time you give yourself a gift.” Nileme grinned at me.

“I agree, my king.” Ibseth nodded. “I have everything I could possibly need or ask for. It’s okay to be generous with yourself as well.”

“You’ve already spoiled us more than any husband in all The Gloom could,” Bolra added. “I agree with my sisters, it’s your turn to be spoiled.”

“I don’t even know what I’d do,” I mused. “You four give me everything I could ask for.”

“You haven’t gotten a new gun in a while,” my Dolrath wife pointed out. “Maybe you could get a few new ones.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” I nodded and stroked my chin. “Maybe I can call over to Nathan and see if he’s got anything new in. Or we could go up to a place in the city and look for something more exotic.”

“I think that sounds like a perfect idea, partner.” Amrila grinned.

We all left the Zencarri woman to enjoy her home and went about our daily chores. First, I went into the big backyard behind the trailer and Ibseth’s place and looked after Growler and Dread. Then I got out the rake and started to take care of the leaves as I thought about the kind of guns or other weapons I might want to buy. There was always the HK-416, which seemed like a fun option. I could also get some upgrades for my current firearms, or even see if I could get some extended mags.

I started to get excited, so I pulled out my phone and looked up the number for Nathan’s Surplus and Arms.

“Nathan’s Army Surplus and Arms,” I heard a familiar voice answer. “This is Nathan. How can I lend a hand?”

“Hey,” I snorted at the series of arm and hand puns, since the wild-haired store owner only had one arm. “This is Eddie Hill. I just wanted to check and see if you have anything new or fun in the store?”

“Oh,” Nathan replied, and I could almost picture him as he looked around at his crazy, but creative displays. “I’d say I have about the usual, standard fare. But I can always order something special in if you have anything in mind?”

“Do you still have that HK?” I asked as Dread brought up his favorite stick for me to throw.

“I sure do,” the sandy-haired man said. “Got a couple of ARs, too, but I know you’re not partial to them. Let’s see… got some Vietnam era stuff in an estate sale I still have to go through. But that’s more on the collectibles side. But I don’t suppose you’re free tomorrow?”

“What?” I was caught off guard by the question. “I don’t think I have any plans. Why do you ask?”

Nathan and I were friendly, and I liked him. But it wasn’t like we hung out ever.

“Would you and your buff, gun-nut girlfriend like to come to a big-ass gun show in Sandusky?” Nathan asked. “It’s gonna be the event of the season.”

Fucking right I wanted to go to the Sandusky Gun Show.