“Ferryman, would you mind leaving us alone with this dead man?” I politely inquire of my fellow Unholy.
“Goddamn, boy.” Ferryman shakes his head at the dealer. “Give up the name and at least die with your body parts intact.” Then to me, “Try not to enjoy yourself too much.”
I shrug. “What can I say? We love our job.”
Wraith backs away and crosses his arms over his chest, giving the dude his best glare. It’s one that’s known to break even the toughest of men. Not this guy, though, who remains stoic as hell as he keeps on concentrating on the back wall as if Jesus himself is nailed to it.
It’s actually impressive.
Before Ferryman leaves, he wags a finger at our victim. “I told you, you came to the wrong motherfucking town.”
Once he’s gone, I let out a loud sigh. “Okay, so where are we doing this?”
“The mill,” Wraith announces.
“That’s what I figured.” I drop the bag and pull out zip ties. Turning to the dealer, I say, “You going to make me work for it?” The guy gives me a disgusted expression as he unclasps his hands from the chair’s arms. He holds up his arms so I can secure his wrists. “We’re going for a ride.” I haul him to his feet, and that’s when he gives his first protest. “Behave and walk like a big boy, or I’ll sever your Achilles’ tendons and drag you like a sack of shit. Choose, motherfucker.”
My warning hits a nerve. The guy’s nostrils flare, and he’s sweating so bad it’s dripping off him like rain. I wouldn’t doubt it if he peed a little. What he doesn’t do is continue to throw a tantrum. Instead, he notches his chin and walks the hell out of the storage room alongside Wraith and me like a gown-ass man. And when we step outside, he tenses and glances around. As if, for a fraction of a second, he’s contemplating his chance of escape. Guess he realizes the futility of the situation because he sags his shoulders and shuffles forward, following Wraith.Smart. And when we get to the Jeep, and I shove him in, I have zero remorse because he made a choice, and it’s time for him to suffer the consequences of his actions.
“I’ll drive,” Wraith announces as he claims the driver’s seat.
I climb in and swivel around to face the dealer, who is staring daggers at me from the backseat. “I’m curious.”
The guy says nothing as I take his measure. I wager he’s our age. A total dudebro. He reminds me of those two idiots from Talon. Less of the one whose jaw I busted and more of the friend I knocked the fuck out.
“About?” he finally says, his voice cold as a blast of mountain air.
“What made you think you could push onyx in Mayhem?”
He shrugs. “The pay was good.”
“Nah,” I scoff. “No amount of money is worth what we’re going to do to you. Has to be more to it.”
“No, it really is that simple. I needed money. Someone offered me enough of it, and here we are.”
Could be he’s a mercenary. They’re popping up like weeds lately.
“Give up the name of that someone, and your nightmare ends when we reach our destination,” Wraith offers.
Wraith doesn’t do the whole mercy thing. Must be impending fatherhood giving him a touch of conscience.
The dealer shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”
“You’re a stubborn sonofabitch.” Good Lord, doesn’t he get it? We’re, like, for real going to torture him. Why would anyone want to die like that?
“The Unholy prides itself on obedience, but you’re surprised when someone else exhibits the same level of obligation.”
“Obedience? See, you got it twisted.” I smirk and shake my head. “We’re all about loyalty and honor. Big difference.”
None of us owe the Unholy a damn thing. We joined willingly, and the blood we spill—whether it’s our own or someone else’s—we do out of uncompromising love and allegiance.
“Doesn’t matter.” He stares out the window. “Obligation. Loyalty. Call it whatever you want, you won’t get me to talk.”
“We’ll see.” I nudge Wraith’s arm. “We can be pretty persuasive.”
Confession. I hope he’s not all attitude. I’m looking forward to a good challenge. Especially if he’s a mercenary. It means he’s killed more people than all the Unholy combined. What a piece of garbage. That will make him even more fun to tear apart. Then we’ll make him disappear. Even if the law does come looking for him, which I doubt they will, no one will admit to seeing him.
We protect our own.
