7. Dragon
7
DRAGON
“Fuck off. I’m not going to say shit.” Our guest of honor turns his head and spits, leaving a big glob of saliva and blood on the floor.
His face is fucked up, but pissing people off must come naturally to him because I’ve only done like half of that shit. We picked up him and another guy when they were with a group who tried to ambush us at the handover yesterday. They got slaughtered and Chafik got the full delivery, but blood was spilled and not just theirs. My arm still stings like a bitch when I twist it.
“Man, look what you just did. Now some poor prospect’s going to have to clean that up.” I grab him by the collar and slam his face into the wall, letting him slide to the floor where he stays, glaring up at me. “Let’s be real. You don’t want to be here, and we don’t want your smelly ass corpse stinking up the place.”
He might look like a tough motherfucker, but I can see the blankness behind his bloodshot eyes. We both know he put a bullet in one of our guys, and short of a miracle, he’s not walking out of here. Blood from a stab wound in his upper thigh is soaking his jeans. I’d give him credit for holding out this long, but I’m pretty sure he’s loaded up good on something and not feeling much pain. I glance outside the cell. Skyhigh and Blackout are playing cards with Ghost.
“What are you thinking?” Ghost asks, looking my way. He’s a cold bastard, but good at what he does, which is exactly why he’s training me.
I wait to see if my conscience has anything to say. Not sure what it means for my chances in the afterlife, but it doesn’t.
This asshole has too many grays in his greasy hair and deep lines in his leathery skin to plead innocent. He knew the score when he got on his bike and decided to fuck with us. The only reason he’s not holding his own guts is that Lash took the hit to his shoulder and not his chest. “I think that if he’s not willing to talk, there’s not much point in keeping him around.”
Studying his cards, Ghost nods.
Knowing exactly what that means, Blackout’s gaze flicks over and then back to the game. He’s merciless in a fight, and wouldn’t lose sleep over killing someone who needed putting down, but he doesn’t have the temperament for interrogation.
Skyhigh’s expression is grim. He puts his cards down on the table and strolls over to the cell. He looks relaxed, but I can see from the way he’s holding himself that he’s ready to strike if he has to. Down here, surrounded by the stink of piss and blood, he’s a different man from the laid back joker of our team. One that was forged in the trenches of a useless war thousands of miles away, and that his recent promotion to officer has forced him to call on.
He looks down at the guy and nudges him with his boot. “Any last words? Tell us whose bright idea it was to get in our way and maybe we’ll let you live.”
He bares his pink-stained teeth. “Bullshit.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Skyhigh agrees. “But maybe your buddy can walk away.”
Staring out of the bars of the cell across from us is a scrawny, terrified kid from the same group. He looks barely old enough to shave, but we stripped a gun and several knives off him when we picked him up. I’ll fuck him up if that’s what it takes to keep my brothers safe, but I’m hoping to soften him up by letting him watch us break this asshole. It’s not a pretty job, but it’s necessary sometimes.
“End it,” Skyhigh says, blue eyes flat and cold.
Hearing the order gives our prisoner one last rush of energy. He wrenches himself to his feet and shoves Skyhigh out of the way. I have no idea where he thinks he’s going even if he makes it past us, but he’s operating on pure instinct, not rational thought. I tackle him before he makes it out of the cell, slamming him into the wall and shoving the barrel of my gun into his temple.
“Go to hell,” he spits out.
“You first.” I pull the trigger.
The kid screams almost as loud as the gunshot as it echoes off the walls, but I don’t look away. Not until the body shudders one last time as his systems shut down and slumps to the floor. I close my eyes for a second, adding the weight of his death to my soul, what of it I have left. I have no regrets, but this pile of dead flesh was born with the same potential for good and evil as the rest of us, and ending up here like he did is a waste.
A retching sound pulls my attention away. The kid is leaning against the wall with one arm under his forehead, his face the color of an unripe tomato. He shies away from the door when he sees Skyhigh heading his way.
“Ready to play?” I call out. “I can do this all fucking day.”
“No, please, I don't—ask me anything. Just… don't.”
Skyhigh unlocks the cell and reaches in, hauling the kid out by the back of his shirt and pushing him my way. “What we do is up to you, asshole. If you’re smart and tell us what you know, maybe you won’t end up like your friend.”
He shudders, letting out a soft whimper. Close up, I’d say he’s no older than twenty. “Harry wasn’t my friend.”
I grab his shoulder and slam his ass down into a chair only a couple feet from Harry’s body. “Yeah, then you don’t owe him shit. What’s your name, kid?”
“Renegade.”
Big name for a scrawny man. If he has more brains between his ears than the other guy, he might live to grow into it. I catch Ghost’s eye and we share a silent understanding. This kid's got the fear of God in him, and right now, I am that fucking God. Time to tighten the screws.
“You can start by telling me what the fuck drew a shitty ass crew of assholes like you to our meeting yesterday. This was way above your paygrade.”
“I—we didn't know it was the Outlaw Sons. Word got out that there was an opportunity. It sounded like an easy hit.” He grunts as I pull out a knife and rest the point against his sternum, pushing hard enough to make him feel it but not enough to hurt. Yet.
“Bullshit. The group you were with was fucking organized. You knew when and where to be, and that was after our boys got jumped just a couple days ago on a related job. Sure, maybe I’ll buy you didn't know who you were fucking with, but you had details. The kind of details that require firsthand knowledge. So think real hard. When did you first hear about this opportunity? Who started talking about it, and who pulled everyone together? Because either we were the ones getting set up, or you were.”
“I’m getting bored here,” Blackout rumbles. “Ghost fucking cheats.”
Ghost huffs out a dry laugh. “Not my fault you play like a grandma.”
Skyhigh crosses his arms over his chest and just glares.
“I just did what Harry told me,” Renegade whimpers. I twist the knife. “I swear to fucking God! Look, while you guys hang out here behind your fucking walls, not all of us have it so easy, okay? I go where I’m told and do what I’m told because if I don’t, then who the fuck would ever give me a shot at anything else? He told me he had contacts in the Jackals and would put my name up if I showed I could hold my own.”
We have it easy? Good to know. But he’s not completely wrong. The outside world looks at us like we’re the scum of the earth. The fuckups that fell through the cracks. What they don’t understand is that clubs like ours are on the top of the food chain of a brutal world that runs alongside theirs, not beneath it. Just like in their world, sometimes who you know is just as important as what you know.
“You took a risk and now you’re paying the price. You want to prove you’re worth something? Then you need to grow some balls and think for yourself.”
Renegades eyes spark. He didn’t like that.
“No fucking club worth shit wants an idiot in their ranks. Think. ” I point at the body that’s seeping blood onto the cell floor not far away. “If he had contacts that were worth anything, he’d be wearing a cut and be safe and sound behind walls of his own. He was using you and all the idiots like you who are so eager to prove yourselves that they turn their fucking brains off. You know more than you think you do. See this? Want to know how it feels?” I ask, pulling up my sleeve and showing him the nasty slice I took to my arm.
I grab his wrist and put the blade of the knife to his skin.
“No. Please!” He shivers under the strain of not yanking his arm away and causing real damage. “I—Harry was talking with Bone the other night at the Diamond Club. I didn’t hear much but they were real excited. Harry even bought a round. He was saying we just needed a bunch of muscle so we could swoop in and clean up.”
“Who the fuck is Bone?” Skyhigh growls.
“He’s a middleman. If you’ve got shit you want to buy or sell, you talk to Bone and for a feel, he’ll either handle it, or find someone who w—will.” The words tumble outta him so fast his tongue stumbles.
I wipe the blade of the knife off on his jeans and slip it back in its place inside my cut. “Good. See how easy that was? Did Harry contact Bone, or was it the other way around?”
“Uh…I—I don't know. I—Wait! Bone must’ve called Harry because that’s not our usual place.”
“Was Bone there with you yesterday?”
Renegade shakes his head. “Nah, he deals in information.”
“Would you know how to contact him?”
“M—maybe? I don’t have his number but if you ask around he’ll turn up. Probably at the Diamond Club.”
Skyhigh gives my shoulder a nudge. “C'mon. We’ll take this to Hellfire.”
“What about him?” I ask, dispassionately, gesturing at Renegade who looks a little sick.
Skyhigh shrugs. “Up to you.”
I wrap my fingers around the front of the kid’s neck and lean down to look him in the eyes. “I’m going to let you sit here and see if your memory improves. Maybe it’ll give you time to think about where the fuck you want your life to go when this is over.”
Blackout throws down his cards and pushes back his chair. “Finally! Let's go. I’m fucking starving and this place stinks.”
Pulling the kid by the neck, I drag him back to his cell and toss him in there. He flinches when the steel door slams, but more than anything, he looks relieved he’s still alive.
Ghost waves us along. “Go talk to Hellfire. I’ll clean up and make sure everything’s locked tight.
“Thanks.” As I walk out, an eerie shiver crawls down my spine. I'm not fucking superstitious, but I've learned to trust my gut, and my gut's telling me this shit’s gonna get fucking ugly.