“Money. Protection. Take your pick.” I spread my hands. “I will find out, Benny. I’m going to peel you open until I get to the truth about my brother’s death. Even if I need to flay your skin off, layer by layer, until every nerve cell in your body screams in agony and you beg for mercy.”
His shoulders shake, and a strangled sob escapes him. “I didn’t have nothing to do with it, I swear.”
“But you know who did.”
Benny’s eyes twitch as he weighs how much to reveal. “Look, there are people out there who would kill me just for talking to you.”
For the first time in months, hope roots in my chest.
That little piece of information puts a whole new spin on things. Learning there are people who are desperate to hide this from me suggests I’m right about my brother. He didn’t kill himself.
Which means someone else did.
That brings me one step closer to avenging his death.
“Those people are out there, but I’m,” I tap my chest, “right here. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, death will be a mercy.”
His eyes dart to the bar’s back door.
There’s no handle. No bell. Only a flat deadbolt lock that requires a key. No possibility for escape. Benny has only one way out of this.
And that’s through me.
He whimpers as I unsheathe the knife again and start to casually trim my nails. “You don’t get it, do you? These people, they’re everywhere. They’ve got cops on payroll. Judges. They’re untouchable.”
“Do they have doctors on their side? Priests? Angels? Because that’s who you’ll need, not judges or cops.” The blade in my hands reflects the streetlight’s yellow glow. I offer him a cold smile, signaling that I’m about to enjoy dirtying my hands. “One way or another, you will tell me everything.”
He pants in short, panicked breaths. “You don’t understand what you’re getting into. MJ didn’t either.”
He eyes the door once more, then me. Then the other side of the alley.
The fucker’s going to run.
“Go ahead, Benny. I need more excitement in my life.”
He launches himself at the bar door like he’s been struck by lightning and pounds his fists on the metal.
“Open up!” More pounding. “Please!”
No one comes.
Benny whirls, eyes bloodshot and wild with desperation. He inches toward the dumpster, his gaze never leaving me. Two steps. Three.
After another beat, his hand moves.
He’s quick, but so am I.
I hurl my knife right as his hand, now clutching a small pistol, emerges from the back of his jeans.
The blade sinks into his thigh.
He screams in agony, cradling his leg with his free hand.
I draw my own gun. “Drop your weapon, Benny. You don’t want to test my aim again.”
Chapter 4
Aurora
