Tomorrow? He’d figure that out later.
Returning into the house, Steel headed for the room where only eight captives remained bound. The two oldest and two youngest Gavigan brothers were now standing off to the side. Wendigo, Ranger, and Phoenix were hovering close, but not right on top of them.
Seeing Steel reenter the room, Seamus stepped away from his brothers and headed for Ghost and Steel in the center of the circle again. “Which one of you is in charge?”
Fuck, maybe Papaw had a point.
“I am,” Ghost answered as Steel said, “He is.”
Seamus turned his attention fully on Ghost. “I will fulfill the remainder of my bargain. I ask that me brothers be allowed to leave, now.”
“You understand that once you give us the name of the shooter, your father and brother will be tortured to death?” Ghost inquired. “You’ll be staying to witness that.”
Seamus nodded once, and then winced as though the action had jostled his wounded arm. “I would have insisted on stayin’ to watch regardless, hear. I want there ta be no question that either could come back ta try ta dethrone me.”
Steel thought the man thought highly of his small syndicate if he referred to his father’s position as worthy of a throne. Ghost must have too, because his eyebrows shifted up slightly, but otherwise he did not bring attention to the wording.
“Their breaths are numbered,” Ghost assured him. “Your brothers may go, but three of mine will stay with them until we’re assured the remainder of the bargain has been kept.”
“We already branded ourselves, but if it makes ya happy, yer people may follow them home,” Seamus said like he wascontaining an eyeroll. At Ghost’s nod, Ranger, Wendigo, and Phoenix followed the three Gavigan brothers out. Seamus waited until they were gone to say, “Eoin isn’t as smart as he thinks he is, now. I didna know of the theft or the hits until afterward. However, I ken me brother. If he needed somethin’ done fast, he would have sent Desmond.”
Seamus pointed to the man in the middle left of the six bound soldiers. The man instantly started to shake his head and shout muffled denials through his ball gag. Eoin, who did not look good, moaned around his. His eyes were glassy, his face both flushed and pale, and his chin, neck, and the front of his shirt were saturated with saliva and loose bile.
“You just had to shove a fucking cigar down his throat,” Ghost grumbled as he approached the doomed man. As soon as he removed the ball gag, Eoin turned and spewed a ridiculous amount of vomit onto the tarped floor. Sickly sweetness rose in the air as the man gagged on regurgitated puke.
Everyone in the splash zone took hasty steps back. Eoin’s entire body heaved with such force that he fell into the pile of sick, even as more continued to exit his mouth.
As foul as Steel found both the sight and the smell, he couldn’t help the twisted satisfaction at the man’s suffering. His Oscuro Maduro had not been sacrificed in vain.
The perimeter around Eoin widened when a moist, gassy raspberry was heard, like that of a dying balloon, followed immediately by Eoin’s pitiful groan as a bumpy bulge grew on the back of his pants. A dark stain then appeared, and an even ranker smell filled the room.
Most covered their noses, some gagged, and some had to leave.
Steel stormed over the soiled tarp to the man whose careless order had led to Melanie’s murder. He kicked Eoin in the gut,hard. Which induced another chain reaction out of both ends of him. “Is he right? Did you send Desmond to kill Baldwin?”
Eoin moaned. He tried to curl in on himself, but rope binding him to the chair wouldn’t let him.
“I ken me brother,” Seamus repeated. “Desmond’s his little bitch. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was fuckin’ him too, the little?—”
“Finish that sentence, and I will cut that brand off your arm and make you eat it,” Steel snapped, pointing a finger at Seamus.
Cage crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’ll hold you down while he does it,” the normally carefree man added with a disgusted sneer.
Seamus ignored the threat. “Me point is, Desmond’s yer man. I’m sure of it.”
Steel left Eoin to his misery and walked over to the man Seamus had pointed out as Desmond. Pulling an unlit cigar from the inside of his coat, Steel held it up in front of the man’s gagged face. “Did you shoot my daughter?”
Desmond was young, maybe early twenties. His wide, panicked eyes landed on Eoin on the floor and then back to Steel. He didn’t seem to know what to say or do. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
A stain started growing on the crotch of his pants as yet another pungent odor filled the room.
Poison leaned over Desmond’s shoulder to look down at his wet lap. “Goddamn, Steel. You’re just bringing all the bodily fluids out of these fuckers. Remind me to buy you more cigars.”
Steel was starting to get a headache, and not from the foul stenches now accumulating in the room. He put the cigar away and leaned over Desmond, placing his hands on the man’s arms and pressing down hard. They were nose to nose, barely an inch separating them.
“I can make your death fast or slow. That will not be determined based on what your answer is but how quickly you give it to me. The choice is yours. Now, a simple head shake will do. Did you or did you not kill my daughter?”
Desmond’s chin trembled around the ball gag as he, slowly, started to nod.
