Chapter Seventy-Six
AJ
We haul Marvin out of the trunk like the sack of shit he is.
Nate knows a guy who used to run this auto shop on the edge of town.
But with half the sign’s letters missing, weeds pushing through the cracked asphalt, and the lingering stench of decay mingling with the smell of oil and rust in the air, the guy hasn’t been here in years. Neither has anyone else.
It’s the perfect place for a man to disappear.
Jasper and Connor wait just inside the door, arms crossed over their chests.
I never thought the two of them looked much alike, but right now, they wear the same expression we all do. Rage.
Marvin hasn’t said a fucking word since we dragged him into the hospital stairwell. Every flight, Hardison “dropped” him at least once. His knees will never be the same.
“I reckon this should do him just fine,” Jasper says, waving his hand at one of the old repair bays.
I slam Marvin into a battered, rusted tool chest. Wrenches scatter to the concrete with a metallic crash. He groans, curling in on himself as best he can with his hands cuffed behind his back.
“Find me a goddamn chair,” I snap.
“Got a better idea, Cap.” Hardison punches one of the buttons for the hydraulic lift system, and a chain thuds down from the ceiling, one link at a time. “The chair is for after we break both his legs.”
Connor and Jasper pin Marvin’s arms while Hardison swaps the cuffs to the front. I catch the bastard’s weight, snap the chain around the cuffs, and hit the hydraulics until he’s stretched tall, his toes brushing the concrete floor.
I step in close. “Where. Is. Grace?” Each word lands with a sharp jab to his ribs.
Marvin wheezes but forces a smile. “She belongs to Prophet. She always has. She always will.”
Hardison leans in, shaking his head slowly. “Man, you keep talking like that, and I’m gonna start believing you want us to get creative.”
Connor snorts. “Ain’t much left to get creative with.”
“Don’t sell me short,” Hardison fires back. “My imagination’s just gettin’ started.”
I press my forearm against Marvin’s throat, enough to shut him up. “Well, you belong to us. And I promise you, Prophet ain’t half as scary as we’ll be if you don’t start talkin’.”
Marvin doesn’t flinch when I take a step back. “You expect me to believe two decorated Rangers, a former FBI agent, and Lieutenant Boy Scout over there are gonna torture me?”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Hardison gets right in Marvin’s face. “See, here’s the problem. You’re betting on us playing by the rules. On being scared to push too far.” His eyes narrow, a lethal calm settling in his tone. “You put your hands on Parker. I don’t have rules anymore.”
Jasper circles behind Marvin, his voice quiet, dangerous. “AJ’s the best of us. But you got no idea what losin’ the love of your life can do to a man.” He pulls a blade from his back pocket. It snaps open with a metallic click.
With a sneer, Marvin meets my gaze. “Do your worst.”
Hardison’s eyes narrow. “Oh, he did not just say that.”
I glance at my twin. He shrugs as he passes me the knife. And I drive it deep into the fleshy part of Marvin’s shoulder.
He screams, his toes scraping across the metal.
“That’s one. For every minute Grace is gone, you’ll get another,” I say, yanking the knife back out and wiping it on Marvin’s shirt sleeve. “Where is she?”
He chokes out a laugh. “Long gone. We have people everywhere. You know how easy it was? Gettin’ her out of the hospital? Took all of a minute. Into the elevator, up to the roof, and on a helicopter headed for sunrise. You’ll never find her.”
Hardison whistles. “East, huh? See, that’s progress. Couple more minutes, and you’ll be giving us GPS coordinates and Prophet’s blood type.”
Marvin spits at the man, but it lands far short of Hardison’s boots. “You think you’re gonna scare me? I’m a senior cleric of the Blessed Flock.”
Connor’s lips curl in a humorless smile. “You ain’t seen scary yet, asshole.”
Jasper folds his arms, his voice flat. “When we get tired of askin’…that’s when the scary part begins.”
I grab Marvin’s jaw, force his eyes to mine. “Where’s the goddamn ceremony? Tell me, or I swear to God, I’ll put you in the ground right now.”
Jasper grabs his shoulder from behind, digging his fingers into the wound.
Marvin groans through the pain. “Even if you did find her, you’d never make it past the gates.”
Hardison chuckles, the sound dry as dust. “Yeah, we know all about the ghost guns, shit-for-brains. Did you think we’d be goin’ in there alone? You and your brothers aren’t gonna have any use for them when we’re done. Last I checked, ghosts couldn’t pull triggers.”
Marvin’s eyes dart from me to Hardison and back again.
“Someone slipped,” I grit out. “Whoever dumped Grace’s body in the middle of the Mexican countryside left a fragment of a firin’ pin in the bag with her.”
“No…there wasn’t anything in there,” he gasps. “Just…her.”
I barely manage to rein in my shock. Then again, why should I be surprised? The bastard arranged for her kidnapping and lied to my face for three goddamn years.
I meet Jasper’s gaze over the asshole’s shoulder. “I think it might be time to tell the world how Grace was really found. And who was personally responsible for confirming the cult’s connection to the Cordova cartel.”
Jasper comes back around to stand next to me, his phone in his hand. “Say the word, AJ, and I’ll call Emi. She can be on the air in twenty minutes. Probably less.”
Marvin’s bravado cracks into pieces. “No! If Jefe finds out… I was supposed to make the problem go away. Not—”
Connor cuts him off, his voice razor-sharp. “Oh, he’s gonna find out. Tell us what we need to know, and maybe we’ll do you a solid and throw him in jail for the rest of his life before he carves you into tiny pieces.”
Marvin sags against the cuffs, sweat dripping down his temple. He shakes his head. “Nova’s sacrifice will save me. Even from Jefe.”
Hardison barks out a laugh. “Save you? Man, your Prophet’s been feeding you fairy tales like candy.” He turns to me, disgust curling his lip and nothing but ice in his gaze. “AJ, this fool’s had so much Kool-Aid, he’s more red dye number five than man now. I say bring the pain.”
An hour later, no one’s hands are clean. Marvin’s blood slicks the floor. Both of his eyes are swollen half-shut, and he’s not so much breathin’ as gaspin’.
I step back and let Hardison take over. The man drives a fist into Marvin’s kidney hard enough the bastard loses what was left of his last meal. “Fuck. Now you’ve done it. These are my favorite boots. Give up the Blessed Flock’s location, or you get to see what happens when I run out of patience.”
Marvin tries for a sneer, but it crumbles when Connor leans in close and whispers something I can’t quite make out. Whatever it is drains all the color from the asshole’s face. But he still ain’t talkin’.
Jasper doesn’t even raise his voice. Just takes his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen. “Emi? How fast can you get on the air?” A second later, his lips curve into a smile. “That’s what I thought. Go for it, sweetheart. This idjit needs a little…motivation.”
Marvin chokes out a weak, “No. Please…”
“Please?” I snap. “You think I give two shits about your beggin’?” I step closer, my shadow swallowing him whole. “Not a chance. Not with Grace and Parker still out there. You want mercy? Earn it. Tell. Me. Where. They. Are.”
Tears cut through the grime on his cheeks. His bluster is gone, his defenses stripped bare. He’s nothing but a man drowning in his own fear.
“There’s a compound.” Desperation turns his voice brittle. Thin. Like a bundle of dry twigs waiting to snap. “Just east…of Shafter…”
I tap the comms unit in my ear. “Zephyr? Did you get that?”
“Searching the flyover footage now,” she says. “I lost the helicopter less than three miles from Austin Memorial. No transponder, no flight plan. But based on air speed…they could have made it to Shafter…well…right about now.”
I grab Marvin’s blood-soaked shirt and yank him so close, I can smell the fear on his breath.
“You think your Glorious One can save you? If your Prophet harms even a single hair on their heads, I won’t just kill you.
I’ll carve off a piece of your body for every fuckin’ day my wife suffered.
And only then will I put a bullet in your brain. ”