Chapter 20 Grifter #2
I dig the blade in deeper to Bo’s cheek, angling the second line to meet the first, then connect them, until the cut makes an A—our sign.
Anarchy. His blood runs disgustingly wet and hot, covering my fingers.
Bo’s screams turn to pleading. I keep going until his begging is raw and breathless.
“Please, stop. I promise I’ll stay away from her.
I’ll stay away from all of you. Just please stop. ”
When the letter A is clear and cruel across his cheek, I release my grip and slam his head down on the gravel. The hard rock bites into his skull. His eyes flutter as he fights blacking out. “That’s got to hurt, Prez,” Cowboy laughs.
“Let’s load up,” I say, and step back so I can look Alex square in the eye. Bo is whimpering but mostly quiet. Then again, threats carved into your flesh tend to end any conversation. “I think you and I understand each other now,” I tell Alex. “But if I need to make myself clearer, I can.”
“No — I get it,” Alex says fast. Too fast. “Georgia’s off limits. No more shit talking.”
I wipe the knife blade down the sleeve of his thermal shirt, allowing the blood to soak into the fabric. The motion’s casual, the same one you use to clean grease off a wrench. I hand him the knife and he takes it without a word. With that done, I turn to leave.
A thought stops me mid step. “C?”
“Yeah, Prez?”
“Did I tell Bo that when I left here, he wouldn’t be able to call the cops?” I ask without looking back.
“You did, Prez,” C answers, and the joke of it hangs in the air like smoke.
I shake my head, sounding regretful yet feeling anything but. This was always part of the plan. “It’s probably frowned on if the new president doesn’t keep his word. Might make me look weak to my men, wouldn’t it, Cowboy?”
Cowboy shrugs. “I don’t think I’d want to follow a man who didn’t back up his threats.”
I let out a dry laugh. Then, I walk back toward Bo. He’s trying to crab-walk backward to get away. His movements are jerky and desperate. “Alex, grab him,” I order.
Alex runs because he’s been told to. I imagine the feel of it: the rush, the fear. He fishes in his pocket for the knife again, but I shake my head. C steps in, and together they hold Bo down. I press his hand flat to the gravel. He keeps it in a fist, claws at the dirt like a dog.
“Let’s get this show on the road, Bo. God knows I’ve already wasted too much time on your dumb ass.
I said you wouldn’t be able to call the cops when I left,” I mutter like I’m annoyed with myself.
In reality, I’m just torturing the fucker and I’m having trouble hiding my smile.
“So, in the interest of time, you have two choices. Flatten your hand out against the gravel for me so I can break your fingers—or I can have my men hold you down and I cut your tongue out. Choose quick, or I’ll choose for you. ”
He jerks, eyes huge, his body trembling.
“I promised, I won’t bother the girl. I won’t even look at her.
Just let me go.” Tears carve tracks down his face.
He’s terrified, pleading like a child. It probably makes me sadistic, but I love it.
This man hurt my woman and now he’s getting a small taste of the hell she’s lived over the years just because she tried to help him.
“I’m getting tired, Bo,” I say. “You have until I count to three.”
The begging ratchets up at once. “Christ, please, don’t do this! Please, I’ll do anything.”
“One,” I murmur, looking at my watch like I’m bored.
“I’ll leave town. You won’t ever see me again,” he cries.
“Two.”
I look up at a very worried Alex, and again I have to hide my smile. I need to see that he understands my lesson here. “Alex, I’m going to need your knife again.”
Alex hands the knife over like a man surrendering everything at once. Bo screams, “No. Break my fingers if you have to, but don’t … God, don’t cut my …”
He stops, and it’s like he can’t say the word tongue.
Instead, Bo straightens his hand against the graveled ground.
He’s trembling, his breath so ragged and loud it echoes around us.
I bring my boot up and slam it down on his fingers.
Then, I grind them into the gravel until he howls loud enough to wake the dead.
I repeat it five times, making sure to get each finger.
“The other hand now,” I bark. “Alex, hold him steady,” I add, seeing how white Alex looks. That’s right mother fucker, take it in.
Once they do as I order, I repeat my movements with this hand.
Each slam of my foot sends Bo’s screams echoing through the evening air.
When his screams just become pitiful sobs, I watch as he curls into a fetal position on the harsh ground.
I bend down so I can whisper into his ear, making him panic.
“No, no, no …” he pleads over and over.
“Stay out of my way, fucker. Make sure my woman never sees or hears your name again. If she does, I won’t leave you breathing the next time I have to deal with you,” I warn quietly.
He whimpers but doesn’t respond. Still, I’m sure my message has been delivered.
Before I walk away, I spit on him, feeding the need to humiliate him.
As C and Cowboy follow behind me, I look over my shoulder when I hear Bo cry out in pain.
C and Cowboy are kicking him in the ribs and join me in spitting on him.
Alex watches but gives Bo a wide berth as he maneuvers around him.
Even from this distance, I can tell Alex’s hands are shaking.
When I’m sure he’s following us, I lead us over to our bikes.
I do it smiling because I know Alex is scared to death and that was the biggest point in coming here today.
I climb on my bike, not bothering to look at Bo again.
There’s no point. Business was handled and he won’t exist to me from this point on—as long as he remembers the rules.
“Time to get home to my woman,” I mutter under my breath, missing her more with every minute that passes.
My hands might still have traces of blood on them, but as the wind hits my face, my chest feels lighter.
Once we get on the main road, I look back in the mirror at my men.
C and Cowboy are riding behind me, guarding my back and Alex is behind them, but obviously hanging back as he thinks everything over.
He’s just a shadow behind the light, but I can see him and that’s what is needed right now.
I need to watch him closely. What he does in the next few days determines if he’s alive a week from now.
If he’s smart, he’ll make the right choices.
If not, he’s gone. Nothing and no one will harm my woman ever again.