Chapter Twenty-five
Vandal
Halloran sat in a metal chair in the center of the room, his wrists fixed to the chair with plastic ties. Blood was already drying under his nose where Rocky had tested his reflexes earlier. His suit was wrinkled, tie long gone, and his badge was tossed onto a metal table like it meant nothing.
It meant less than nothing, at least to the people in this room.
He looked up when I stepped inside, as if he sensed the shift of energy in the room.
His eyes were sharp and I knew he saw my serious expression, the anger that kept my body tightly coiled and ready to explode at a moment’s notice.
But he didn’t show any signs of fear—not yet—just a smug fucking expression that begged me to put two right between his beady fucking eyes.
I smiled back because that confidence was empowering.
He thought this still ended up with him walking out of here a free man who paid no consequences for his treachery.
I walked slowly between my brothers, my steps slow and measured as I made my way to Halloran.
I let the silence fester because I wanted him to feel how hopeless and desperate his situation really was.
“There you are,” he laughed, trying like hell to sound confident, to make his laugh sound genuine. “Ready for a big boy interrogation?”
I sent him a glower I didn’t feel because I wanted him confident. “The question is, are you?”
His smile wobbled but it didn’t drop, not completely. “You’re all talk. Do the smart thing now and let me go, and maybe Diego will let you live after he takes the girl.”
My hands fought the urge to curl into fists, and it took too much fucking energy to keep my hands flat at my sides and not punch him in the face.
Gio did it instead, one quick hook that snapped Halloran’s head to one side.
“You’re a long fucking way from home, cop,” I said, every syllable came out in a steely calm that unnerved him. “You’re out of your comfort zone and you don’t know shit about us.”
Halloran laughed, spitting blood on the floor between his legs. “I know all about you boys. Bikers with hearts of gold, keeping the town safe from the bad guys.” He rolled his eyes. “Really fucking cute.”
I laughed and shook my head. “If that’s all you heard, you’re in for a surprise.
” I rolled my shoulders until the tension loosened.
Cracked my knuckles once. Twice. My body was ready and so was my mind as I stepped closer and got in his face.
“What can you tell me about Diego that I don’t already know? ”
He flashed a bloody smile. “Not a goddamn thing.”
I planted my feet and drove my fist straight into his nose. The crack of bone was sharp and wet. So fucking satisfying.
He screamed as blood rushed freely now, chair rattling as his body jerked in search of pain relief. I didn’t stop. I hit him again. And again. Just enough to make the point clear.
This wasn’t theater. I wasn’t a good guy.
Halloran spat out a tooth and smiled, his gaze searched mine and I knew what he was doing. He was looking for my limits, for how far he could push me before I ended his life. “Okay,” he finally rasped. “You’ve got good hands. I’ll give you that.” He coughed. “Still ain’t telling you shit.”
“Good,” I said evenly, that one word reverberated throughout the room.
I wasn’t like some of my brothers who I’d watched in this same room with a different asshole who wore the same stripes.
I didn’t like to mind fuck these assholes before getting to the good stuff.
The good stuff was the good stuff for a fucking reason.
The good stuff was what I loved best in this situation.
I reached for the pruning shears on the table next to his chair, close enough it gave him false hope and let him see his future.
Halloran’s smile faltered.
I grabbed his wrist, steadying it with one hand before positioning his middle finger between the blades. “Can you tell me anything that gives us an edge on Diego?”
There it was.
Fear.
“I—I don’t know much,” he stammered, finally ready to let me see his fear. “He pays me for information. Names. Locations. Stuff only someone like me can access.”
It was something. But that shit wasn’t enough.
Snip.
The sound was awful as the shears crunched through the bone. The scream worse. There was something slightly unsettling about hearing a grown man cry out in pain like that. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, that was back in the Army, but it always felt unnatural.
Blood sprayed on me and Halloran, who thrashed in his chair, making an annoying screeching sound as the metal legs dragged against the concrete.
I didn’t flinch, instead I moved the shears to his index finger.
“Okay! Okay, fuck!” he sobbed, chest heaving through his pain. “What do you want to know?”
“Does Diego have the green light from Sombra Negra?”
Halloran laughed hysterically. “Fuck no. The big boss has no fucking clue what that psychopath is up to. If he did, he’d put a bullet in him.
” He shook his head. “Right now he has no reason to question shit. Diego runs a tight ship with the business, cutting up the drugs and parceling it out to distributors and sellers. He makes el jefe money and it’s enough. For now.”
I glanced at Slate and he gave a short nod. He’d look into Sombra Negra operations and see where we could apply pressure, making Diego’s life uncomfortable.
I took a step back and watched Halloran closely. He was a piece of shit, that wasn’t up for debate, but being a dirty cop wasn’t the same as being a conspirator. “What about the fifteen-year-old girl in Marietta?” I asked calmly. “You cover that up for him?”
Halloran went still. “How the fuck do you know about that?” For the first time since I stepped into The Cellar, he looked around the room, finally seeing the Steel Demons as something other than some Robin Hood jokes.
I smiled. “We’re not who you think we are.” And then I applied pressure to the shears. Just enough to remind him who the fuck was in charge. “Answer the fucking questions.”
“No!” He shouted, gasping in anticipation of the pain to come. “No, I swear. Fuck, I had nothing to do with that.”
I didn’t believe him. “But you do have an insurance policy?” I guessed. “Evidence it was him.”
Halloran hesitated and that was all the answer I needed.
This time when I applied pressure, the blade cut through his finger like butter.
“Fuck! Shit! Son of a fucking bitch!” he shouted, screaming so loud his face was red and his voice went hoarse.
“That’s for lying,” I told him, my voice calm and even. “Do you want to help us? If not, I’m happy to just kill you right now.”
He must’ve seen something in my eyes, because he broke. “I hate him,” he sobbed. “I fucking hate that piece of shit. He’s not human, he’s a monster.”
“You were happy to work for him,” I reminded him.
He nodded. “I got three ex-wives and he paid me well. Also helped me take down several of his rivals, which kept the brass happy. We worked well together but don’t mistake that for loyalty.”
“Then help yourself,” I told him. “I don’t have to kill you.”
He laughed weakly but I didn’t miss that spark of hope in his eyes. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true,” I assured him. “I’ll happily kill you for the way you tortured Macy, chasing her all over the south for that motherfucker.
You fucked with her sense of safety and you did it knowing what that sick fuck had planned for her.
” I shook my head. “I could kill you right now for that, but I don’t have to. ” He watched me, searching for the lie.
“There ain’t no way out of this for me,” he whispered, his voice resolved. His shoulders slumped with defeat.
I shrugged. “True. But there’s a slow and painful death. There’s quick and easy. And then there’s facing your cop buddies with the truth of who you are. And what you did with that fucking badge.”
His face drained of color. “Not much in the way of options.”
I shrugged. It was all the same to me. “Slow and painful it is,” I said in a soft, easy voice. “I’m sure I can keep you alive for a few weeks if I really want to, and I do. I’ll make sure you feel every single day of pain that you made her live in fear.”
His eyes rounded as I drew the knife from its sheath. He never looked away, not when I pressed the blade against his wrist and sliced across. Not deep enough to kill.
Just deep enough to hurt.
His scream filled The Cellar.
And I kept going.