I make a cross over my heart with my pinkie and kiss the fingertip.
He steps out from beneath my arm and squints up at me. “Appreciate it, Jester. Truly. You boys certainly know how to make a damn mess.”
“Not a problem.” After I rejoin Wraith, we walk over to the bouncer, and I say to him, “We won’t be staying.” Wraith looks at me peculiar. “I promised Wally we’d spare his fine establishment our usual gorefest.”
Wraith rolls his eyes at me. “How considerate.”
I shrug. “One of us has to be the good guy. Didn’t think you’d want the job.”
“Yeah, no.” Wraith snorts. “Not my thing.”
I give him a once-over. “Nah. Even if you wanted to play the nice guy, you look too mean.”
“Iamtoo mean.” Then to the bouncer, “You mind letting us in, or are you going to stand there eavesdropping?”
The bouncer unlocks the door. “You’re right.”
Wraith glares at him. “About?”
“Youaremean.”
I bark out a laugh. “See? Everyone knows you’re a nasty sonofabitch. Come on, you big lug. Let’s go make this motherfucker regret his shitty life choices.”
The room is dim and musty, crowded with cardboard boxes. Ferryman, a brick shithouse of a man, juts his chin at us in greeting. “So, dickwad here thought it was a good idea to sell onyx in Mayhem.”
“Oh, damn, son.” I cringe as I step inside. “You done went and fucked up.”
The dude is defiant, staring straight ahead. Not much worse for wear save for a slight bruising thanks to Ferryman’s heavy fists. But he’s soaked through with sweat, a sign he rightly understands the severity of his situation.
The strain of his hands curled around the arms of the chair is so tight, it looks like one sharp tug on his arms and his fingers will snap clean off. He does glance at us as we saunter in, but then he returns to glaring at the back wall… as if we’re the ones in the wrong.
The audacity.
Okay, sure. He can pull attitude. For now. Wraith and I will cure him of his affliction right quick. For now, I’ll let the guy have his moment because I’m generous.
Consider it last rites.
Because he’s not making it out of this alive.
Ferryman slaps the dude upside his head. “Oh, man. You’re in a world of trouble now.”
Wraith stalks over to the dealer. Towers over him. He wasted a perfectly good scowl because the man won’t look anywhere but straight ahead. “I’m going to ask you once. Who is your supplier?”
The guy drags his gaze from the wall to Wraith. “You can ask me a thousand times, and I wouldn’t tell you.”
Wow. He’s brave.
Correction.
He’s stupid-brave.
“Allow me to paint you a picture of your situation.” Wraith wraps his beefy hands around the man’s wrists. He leans in close. So close, they’re practically nose-to-nose. “You’re going to die tonight. How we get there is up to you. If you give us your supplier, my friend and I will show mercy. We’ll end you quick. Persist with this stubborn bullshit, and we’re going to pull the life out of you piece by piece until you won’t remember what it felt like to not feel absolute fucking agony. Do we have an understanding?”
Ferryman snicker-snorts as he runs a hand over his scarred, bald scalp. “I tried that, Wraith. His skull is thicker than mine.”
A few years back, a Berserker tried to kill him. The bullet grazed Ferryman’s head and left him with a wicked scar that runs along the left side of his head.
Wraith doesn’t take his eyes off the dealer when he answers Ferryman. “Just making sure he understands his new reality before we begin.”
