Chapter 17
Malcolm Edwards suddenly woke up with a feeling of pressure around his neck. He tried to glance around, but moving any part of his head only cut off his air flow.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to wake up.”
It was dark, and he could barely make out the person in his cell. The man was standing beside his bed, wearing all black. Intense fear slithered up his spine. Who was this guy, and how had he gotten into his cell?
Malcolm wanted to ask, but each time his throat moved, whatever was around his Adam’s apple tightened. It felt as if a cloth was slowly strangling him, interfering with his breathing. That realization sent his pulse racing.
“I just paid a visit to three friends of yours ─ Wesley, Robert, and Sonny. You won’t be seeing them ever again,” the man was saying. “Then maybe you will regroup when the four of you join Larry in hell. I hope that you and your buddies enjoy sharing the fire as much as you did everything else.”
Malcolm flinched. Was this man insinuating that Robert, Sonny, and Wesley were dead at his hands? Is he the person who killed Larry? Just because they had taken pleasure in gang-raping those kids? Damn, they were serving time for that for thirty long years. Wasn’t that enough?
As if the man read his thoughts, he said. “No, I didn’t kill Larry, but I appreciate the person who saved me the trouble.”
“Fuck those kids.” Malcolm barely forced out the words through what felt like constricted lungs.
Malcolm knew the man had heard what he said when he leaned down closer to his face. “Knowing you have no remorse for what you did to those kids sickens me. I want to make it clear who I am and why I am here.”
The man leaned closer as if wanting to make sure his next words were heard with absolute clarity.
“I am the man who loves Martina, and I’m here to avenge what you bastards did to her thirteen years ago.
She didn’t deserve that. No woman would have deserved that.
And those kids didn’t deserve that either.
And there’s the issue of the hit you placed on her.
Just so you know, everyone connected to the attempt on her life ─ every single individual ─ is dead and will burn in hell right along with you and your friends. ”
“Martina…” Malcolm forced out the name with disdain through a tight throat. Hadn’t that bitch caused them enough trouble?
Malcolm watched as the man straightened and stared down at him with cold eyes.
He refused to die because of that bitch and would live to avenge his friends’ deaths.
Struggling to raise his head had him gasping for air as the fabric around his neck tightened.
He continued to resist, although the more he struggled, the more he felt himself losing the battle.
His lungs were faltering, and he was grappling to get more oxygen. And as the man stared at him with those cold eyes, Malcolm accepted that the last breaths were leaving his body.