His scream intensified when I headbutted him into the wall and grabbed his neck. I couldn’t believe they’d sent this guy after me. Fucking pathetic. At least give me a challenge. Not this pansy ass Nancy boy.
“Where is Victor staying?” I barked, pressing his head into the wall.
“Let go of me, man,” he wailed.
I pressed the barrel to my gun under his neck, and the man’s eyes widened. “Talk the fuck now before I blow your brains out.”
“More will come. Doesn’t matter if you kill me,” he taunted.
“Yes, I gathered as fucking much. But why waste one stupid asshole and time when I can torture the info from you?” There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the door. Maria had said there was another guy.
The door flung open, and out he came guns blazing. This guy was bigger, more in my league but not enough to take me down. I was a good shot, always. A bullet smacked right between his eyes before he could really get going.
I barely had to move the gun away from my new friend’s neck.
The other guy crumpled to the ground, leaving his shocked friend.
“You didn’t know who you were dealing with, did you?” I taunted, widening my eyes at him so he could see my wrath.
I got the shock of my life when the fool started laughing, then I noticed it. The red nose and the raw skin inside his nostrils. Then slightly dilated pupils that seemed to look more spaced out as I looked at him. He was a user. Some kind a drug addict.
Back in LA, Victor had killed Cole, Amelia’s confidant in the underground. After his death, there was a guy called Brandon, a drug addict, snooping around, sniffing around like a fucking rat. A pawn. Definitely not a foot solider, just someone they’d sent to fuck with us. He’d ended up dead too.
This guy… he was one of them. He was a pawn, as was the other. People knew me, and these types of guys didn’t approach a guy like me and expect to live. Victor knew that too.
And there wouldn’t have been just two of them. Two runts of the litter that barely added up to one.
Fuck.
So, they were here for something else, then. What was it?
“Why are you following me?” I tightened my grip on him.
“To give you a message, mafia boss.” He laughed, and his eyes did that crazy like jangle as he scrunched up his nose.
“Give me the message and don’t fuck with me.”
“Gladly.” He continued his laughter. I had to ram him harder into the wall.
“Talk!”
“Victor sends his love,” he sputtered.
“Does he now?”
“He says he’ll fuck your girlfriend first before he eats her. The same way he fucked Henry’s wife right in front of him before he cut off her foot and ate it.”
My hands stilled, and I lost my grip on the fool.
God. In. Heaven.
No.
No.
No.
When I’d managed to get to Henry, Victor had him hanging from the ceiling of the old mental home in some sick game where he had to try and swing across to his wife, Lydia, to save her. Her left foot had been gone.
