CHAPTER EIGHT #2
“Talk.” I grip Bex’s jaw, muscles flexing as I squeeze.
He has more of an athletic build, while the other guy is bulky and short.
I turn on the blowtorch. Blue fire coils out, its flames rolling across the room as heat shimmers.
I bring it close enough until he can feel the white-hot of the flame. I won’t hesitate to melt his skin off.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” His eyes glisten, and he shakes his head, eyes flying wide, body trembling almost as if he’s about to concuss.
Oliver talks fast, stumbling over details, painting a picture of routine operation gone sideways, making excuses.
Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. That’s my number one rule.
I pull my gun from my belt holster, holding an aim to his leg.
The vibration of the recoil jolts through my arm as the bullet pierces his leg.
Rods of veins bulge around his neck as his face pales, a terrifying shriek almost leaving him.
He presses his lips tight to stop the scream.
His blood splatters across the floor, and he looks up at me, eyes wide, breath shaking.
He knows the rules.
If he makes a sound, it will only get worse.
“You answer a question when I ask. Do you understand?” I bark.
“Yes, yes, sir.” He nods, tears streaking down his cheeks. I chuckle, somewhat amused that he’s shedding tears. He knew this situation would end like this. Why would he go out of his way to make it happen? Humans are fucking gullible. Predictable. Malleable.
“If you knew what loyalty is, you wouldn’t have crossed me.” His head shakes vigorously, and he trembles from the pain of the bullet wound. I put my gun back in the holster and look at Bex. “Who did you meet?”
“It was a mistake. We thought we could get some coke and sell it to get extra cash.” His shoulder curls inward.
“That’s a lie.” Virgil says behind me.
“I’m telling the truth. I promise. Please spare me.” He pleads, voice wavering just as he pees on himself.
Virgil barks out a laugh. “The asshat peed himself.” He’s still laughing.
“He did.” I bring the blowtorch and shove it into his mouth, and he screams when I turn it on, gurgling on his blood. As I pull back, he spits blood, and it gets on my shirt.
The sharp crack of my fist against his cheekbone echoes through the room, and blood spills from his bruised mouth. “Don’t get blood on me.” I grip his jaw tightly until it almost cracks. When I let him go, his head falls back, eyes blurry as he mutters gibberish.
Virgil’s phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket. “Yes?” He answers and waits a moment. “I’m on my way.”
“What is it?”
“We found a trespasser.”
“Go get him.” I cock my head toward the exit.
“Alright, brother,” he says as he saunters away. “And Virgil, bring them to me.”
“Right.” He bellows as he leaves, the ghost of his torture still lingering in the charged space.
“We are all alone now, and you can tell me your dirty secrets.” I pull my gun from my holster.
I point it at Bex who’s choking on his blood and squeeze the trigger.
He jerks back as the bullet pierces his skull, and blood splatters on the chair and the floor.
His body goes limp as life drains out of him.
Maybe this will make Oliver speak.
Oliver jostles and falls to the ground in his struggle. I squat down behind him and pull him up, placing the muzzle against his neck. “I’ll talk. I’ll talk.” He sputters, shaking.
“Good, Oliver.” He nods relentlessly, and I grin. “Tell me the truth.”
“They came to the docks two days ago. I have never seen them my whole life.” Oliver splutters.
“What did they want?”
“They just wanted us off duty, so they’d tamper with the shipment. They paid us for it.”
“Names?”
“I didn’t get any names…” he quivers, hands shaking. “But we were going to meet up at the poker room at the Red Horn Club next week for the rest of the payment.”
“Good enough.” I squeeze the trigger, and the gun makes a mechanical click, but doesn’t go off. I hear the bastard’s heart almost explode as half-full breaths drill out of his lungs. “Isn’t it your lucky day?”
His tortured gaze slides over to me, and I smile, depravity flashing in my eyes as I face him. “Just so you know, this is not over yet. I’ll be back, and I’ll collect my due.” I holster my gun and head out of the warehouse.
“Take that bastard to the hospital and keep a close eye on him.” I tell the bodyguard manning the entrance.
“Yes, sir.” He nods and slips through the door.
Just as I hear footsteps crunching against gravel, my heart sinks with an ominous feeling, and then my gaze lands on Virgil, who has a gun pointed at Mason’s head.
Something in me shifts, and a hard pinch of regret follows.
I hate that these things happen to me whenever I see him.
These tiny flutters I can’t control.
Butterflies.
The young man has his hands pulled back by the two men behind him, knees forced against the ground. But he appears so calm, it’s almost terrifying.
“What do you reckon?” Virgil asks me.
“Let me take care of it.” My eyes slide to him, but he doesn’t look at me. “Do what I asked you to.”
“Alright, brother.” Virgil withdraws his gun and marches toward the freight container. I jerk my head towards the shadowed part of the docks, and Mason follows me into it.