40. Dante
40
DANTE
M y men have done a good job of capturing the members of the Savages MC who have been wreaking havoc on our lives. They find them in an old rundown studio which has seen better days and better tenants. The studio is strewn with empty beer bottles and pizza boxes, the defectors having taken over the space and wrecked it beyond what constitutes minor cosmetic repairs. It was a good two hour drive away from my home, and for a second, I question the necessity of trekking that distance myself to deal with the situation, then decide it is absolutely necessary, if only to put Tomas Wojcak in his place myself.
When I arrive at the location, Tomas Wojcak is strung up by his arms, tied to an overhead beam in such a way that I know his arms will probably fall out of their sockets before we have a chance to put him out of his misery. The front of his shirt is filthy, stained with blood, and his jeans low lying against his wide hips. He is a sorry sight if ever I’ve seen one. Though I refuse to feel even a smidgen of regret or sorrow for his predicament. He has done enough to earn himself a seat at this table. He has brought about his own destruction, and now I will see to it that he gives us what we want before he suffers a miserable death and is flung into a pauper’s grave. Or maybe we can feed him to the sharks.
I watch the man from across the room, a dark fury awakening within me. I work my jaw back and forth in anger as I remember what he’d nearly done to Kingsley. He had his hands on her. He had meant to rape her, maybe even kill her. He would have had I not stepped in and trained my gun on him. Back then, I hadn’t known who he was. Nor had he known who I was. I wonder if he had known who Kingsley was all along? Regardless. He had touched her, in places it should be illegal for a man to even look at if he doesn’t have consent. I almost break my jaw with the way my anger is consuming me. I would make him pay for touching her. Even before she meant anything to me. Even before she was mine. Way before I decided she meant something to me and that I would make her mine. He would pay for that indiscretion.
“You’ve been a busy man, Tomas,” I say, walking briskly toward him. He views me from beneath swollen eyelids, sending me a supersized dose of resentment. When I am close enough that I can almost reach out and touch him, he spits at me, his disgusting glob of saliva falling at my feet. I snicker – if that is the worst he can possibly do, everything is going to be fine.
“Tell me what I need to know and maybe I’ll take mercy on you and grant you a quick and easy death.”
“Fuck. You.”
His voice is so resolute. I’m sure he believes he won’t actually need to divulge anything useful, which only makes me laugh. A devilish laugh. I would have some fun with him one way or another.
“If you don’t tell me, you know one of your men will,” I remind him. There is always that one. The one man that thinks he’ll escape death by giving up his boss. It is only brief, but I see the flicker of fear that enters his wide eyes, then just as quickly disappears. “If you want, I can even bring them out one by one so you can watch as I get what I want, then extinguish your men’s lives before I exterminate you.”
I’m met with dead silence. He doesn’t think I have it in me. I don’t have a reputation for being a killer. I’ve been known in these circles to prefer words over violence, and I know my father believes this has put my authority at a disadvantage, but I know for a fact that my way has seen some success. I may be known as soft, but when the need arises, I know exactly how to get what I want.
In this instance, I am not understanding what is buying his silence, especially as he won’t be around to cash in the two million dollar bounty he’s been working so hard to secure. I nod in the direction of one of my men, telling him to bring out one of the Savages locked up in a back room.
They choose a man at random, his hands and feet bound in chains. He hobbles along until he is standing in front of Tomas Wojcak, who fixes him with a savage look, daring his betrayal.
“Your boss over here,” I start, “seems to think me incapable of doing what must be done to get the information I want. I’ll need to make an example of you, unless you can tell me what I need to know.”
I look from the man to Tomas, carefully cataloguing their eye contact, what is said versus what is not. Tomas snickers. He has taught his men well. The man remains tightlipped, his mouth sealed shut, unwilling to share anything that could possibly betray his leader. I respect his loyalty, even though I think it is misplaced.
“Yes, he did indicate he didn’t think any of you would give him up. Let me put it to you this way…” I grab my gun and trace it across the man’s face slowly. “By staying silent, you’re choosing this pariah over yourself – one of you has to die today.”
The man remains close mouthed, but sends a fearful look towards Tomas, who continues to snicker cockily, believing he has the upper hand. I cock my gun and lift it to the man’s head, holding it there against his temple as he squirms uncomfortably. Then I turn to Tomas and arch my brows in question. An invitation.
“Care to save this man’s life by telling me what I need to know?” I ask.
Tomas laughs, his belly doing a shaky dance as he chortles like a hyena. He laughs until the sound resembles a cackle, and there doesn’t appear to be any respite in sight. I count the seconds, hoping against hope that he comes to his senses. But he continues to laugh and carry on as I slowly start to lose my patience.
I pull the trigger.
There is a deafening roar.
The man’s brains land on the side of my face.
The laughing stops.
And Tomas pisses his pants.