11. Braxton #3
“Have her wait inside the clubhouse. We’re back with some extra cargo we need to take to the basement.”
Danny nods then jogs over to the clubhouse, heads inside, and returns a moment later, holding up two thumbs.
Ozzy drives to the back of the clubhouse, where we have a cellar entrance that leads down into the basement.
The prospect pulls the doors open, and we all jump out of the back.
Knox opens the compartment, and thankfully, the man inside is still knocked out.
He and Linc pull him out and start down the flight of stairs.
We all follow, and Danny shuts the door above us.
“Need me for anything?” he asks.
“Nah, we got it from here,” Ozzy says.
He nods and heads over to the other set of stairs that lead into the clubhouse.
“What are you going to do about Vanessa?” Ozzy asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m going to start with letting Jude get some answers from this dirtbag, then go from there.”
Jude walks past me and shimmies his fucking shoulders. “This is going to be fun.”
Ozzy and I stare after him as Knox and Linc get the man situated in a chair in the middle of the tiled room.
The door closes behind Jude, leaving me, Cash, and Ozzy on the other side.
“It’s up to you how you want to handle this, brother,” Ozzy says, and Cash nods in agreement.
My jaw is clenched tight as I look at a spot on the wall behind Ozzy’s head. This is the last thing I want to handle. I’m no closer to knowing what the hell’s going on or what I want to do about it than I was when I first recognized the soon-to-be-dead man in the other room.
“Let’s get some answers, then…then I’ll figure it out,” I finally say.
Ozzy nods and steps toward the door, opening it and letting me pass.
The unconscious man is tied to the chair with his hands cuffed behind his back and his ankles cuffed to the legs. Jude walks over with another syringe and pokes him in the neck, pushing the drug quickly into his bloodstream.
When his eyes open, there’s a wild look in them. He’s as good as a caged animal without any chance of escape. He dies today either way, but it’s up to him how slowly and painfully we’ll make that happen.
“I’m not telling you anything, so you might as well put a bullet in my head now,” he says through clenched teeth.
His wounds have bled through his bandages, so I know he’s got to be feeling a shit ton of pain right now. But it doesn’t matter how much he begs for death. We aren’t going to send him to hell until he’s told us what we need to know.
“Ah, mate. We’re way off from the killing part. How about you start by telling us your name, huh?” Jude asks with a deceptively amenable smile on his face.
The man silently stares at Jude with hatred in his eyes.
“I’ll give you something for the pain if you tell us your name,” Linc says.
The man turns to Linc and stares at him a few beats before answering. “Carl.”
Linc nods toward Jude, who rolls his eyes but grabs another syringe just the same. This time he puts the injection in the man’s arm. When Jude steps back, it’s mere seconds before Carl relaxes a bit.
“Better?” Linc asks.
“Yeah,” Carl says in a rough voice.
“Alright, Carl, we helped you out; now it’s time for you to help us out. Where has Sokolov been hiding out these days?” Ozzy asks.
Carl doesn’t respond, and Jude grabs him by the shoulder before digging his thumb into the wound. It doesn’t matter that Linc gave him a shot of morphine; the man howls in pain.
“Carl, you have to know this is going to get worse for you before it gets better. Tell me what I want to know. Where’s Sokolov?” Ozzy asks again.
“It doesn’t matter what you do. I don’t know where he is. We change safe houses all the time. No one knows the location of the new one until it’s time to move.”
Ozzy nods. “That gets pretty expensive, I would think. Who is financing this little venture?”
“Some old guy in Connecticut was. But he died. Heard you guys had something to do with that,” Carl answers.
“Assholes who fuck us over tend to have short lifespans, Carl,” Jude says. “Too bad you’re on that list.”
“Who’s been giving you information? How did you know about our trip to Boston and to Michigan?” Ozzy asks.
Carl stays silent, but his eyes connect with mine, and fuck me if he doesn’t give me a barely-there smirk.
Jude reaches out and punches Carl in the side of the face. “Eyes over here, asshole.”
“Fuck you. I’m dead either way. Your girl’s got some moves, man. She must be fucking dynamite in bed. Her pussy taste as good as it smells?”
Blinding rage consumes me, and I take two long strides over to Carl, punching him in the face twice before Ozzy grabs my arm, stopping me from landing another blow.
“We need more answers from him. You killing him now isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Ozzy says quietly.
A cackle comes from Carl as more blood pours from the cut my fist made over his eyebrow. “You ain’t getting shit from me.”
Jude chuckles, walking over to the table and picking up a mean-looking hunting knife that he keeps especially sharp for occasions such as this. “Oh, Carl, that’s what they all say.”