Rogers bellowed but then his scream cut off, and it sounded like Don placed either a hand or something over Rogers’ mouth to keep him quiet.
“There’s more of where that came from. You have nine more knuckles I can dislocate. You can threaten to call the police, but so that you know, they’re already on their way. Yeah, remember all the overtime you lied about on your timesheets? The department found out and has decided to press charges.”
“I-I didn’t lie.” Rogers’ said through whatever barrier Don placed over his mouth.
“Give it up. I’m not here for some bullshit timesheets anyway. Tell me what you know about the arsonist. Why did you tell my woman that you knew someone who was hurting a lot of people that night in the club?”
“I was lying—ohh,”he bellowed again.
“Eight knuckles left,” Don said. “Let’s go. I don’t have all fucking night.”
“I-It’s not me starting the fires.”
“No, shit. Tell me something I don’t know, or it’s dislocation number three.”
“I might know who it is.”
“Who?”
“M-my, nephew.”
I turned around.
“Who’s your nephew?” Don and I asked at the same time.
“Kyle. Kyle Rogers. He’s my sister’s kid. She died when he was just a boy. We took that ungrateful bastard in and he never even said thank you.”
“Tuh,” I huffed.
Don glared. “He should’ve thanked you for being raised by a drunk and your wife who couldn’t wait to get away from you?”
“I’m not a drunk,” Rogers insisted.
“Whatever. Keep talking. Why do you think it’s Kyle?”
“What do you mean? Why do I think it’s him? You should know how pathetic he is.”
“Why the hell would I know that?”
“He was a rookie at Rescue Four a few years back. He quit when he couldn’t cut it. Fucking loser.”
Don grabbed Rogers by the shirt and hauled him up to his face. “What the hell do you mean he was at Rescue Four?”
“H-he was a rookie with your squad. I got him assigned there through one of my connections at the department.”
“Why?”
“So he could learn to be a man. He’s too fucking soft.”
Don snorted. “Unlike you, right?”
“I’m a fucking man. I did what my family taught me to do. I put aside the bullshit ideas of wanting my career and stepped up to work for the department.”
“Right, but you suck at the job. You’re an empty shirt,” Don accused.
“Screw you. I’m not. The higher ups in the department never wanted to give me a fair shake. All they saw was my last name and assumed I didn’t deserve my position.”
“You didn’t,” Don replied. “You hate this job. Just admit it. The only reason you’ve made it to the captain spot is because of who your father was. At least your nephew had sense enough to quit. But if he’s the fucking arsonist, I’m about to make that motherfucker wish he’d burned up in one of the fires instead of ever fucking with me and mine. Where is he?”
