The guy was shaking so hard his teeth chattered. His eyes shifted back and forth nervously.
He started crying like a goddamn baby.
"Look, man. I….I'm telling you the truth. Honest to God, I never met a Hector, never even heard the name. I'm pretty new to this industry."
I looked at his sidekick, whom Jacob held at gunpoint. He was panting and sweating profusely.
His eyes were full of fear.
"Hey, gut rot, since this little pussy is supposedly a newbie in the business, I want to know what it is exactly that you do once you get your victims here, and I want the fucking truth, or I'll cut your nuts off and feed them to pansy ass over here."
The man started shaking uncontrollably; moisture beading across his forehead. Jacob cocked his head, amused, while our second contestant sat there dripping sweat, trying to keep his balls from crawling up into his stomach.
"Well?" I pressed. I asked you a fucking question, and it would be in your best interest to answer it."
The scumbag's lips trembled. "We don't do any of the high-level stuff, man. We just prep them to move on to the next step. The girls are stripped and checked for cell phones and trackers. Hector doesn't let anyone here touch the merchandise. He sends in his other guys to pick the product up. They always wear masks and gloves. I have never seen any of their faces. The only thing I know is that Hector lives somewhere in the mountains, and that's it."
I crouched between them, keeping my distance from their shitty-smelling breath. Both fuckers had rotten front teeth in their cruddy mouths.
"So it's safe to say you're the welcoming committee, and you don't know the address where Hector is located?"
"Yeah, exactly. You could call us the welcoming committee. We're just the front end. They don't even staylong, maybe a day or two at most, and I don't know Hector's address. I heard a couple of his men talk about going to his home in the mountains, and that's as far as it went."
I looked at the two of them, cocking my brow.
"And you don't touch the girls at all? No fucking, sucking—nothing?"
They both shook their heads. Jacob's guy's voice stuttered.
"No way, man. Hector is a brutal bastard. He would kill us if we went against his orders."
I stood and turned to Jacob.
"You hear that?"
My partner laughed.
"Middlemen and brutal is what I got."
I smirked, putting the knife back in my boot, then pulled the 357 from my waistband.
I turned back to the first guy, the one I lovingly called pansy, pointing the gun at his head. He started sobbing, snot dripping from his nose and running down his chin.
"Get up and bring me the duct tape and rope you have proudly displayed on the corner table.”
He stood on shaky legs, barely able to walk. Trembling, he retrieved the tape and rope, handing them to me. His hands were shaking like a motherfucker. Mr. pansy-pussy pants was a nervous wreck, as he should be.
"Take a seat," I ordered, my voice calm.
The guy was as pale as a ghost. He knew he was fucked, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.I didn’t believe a single word that crawled out of his mouth.
If they know where Hector is, and if I want the truth, it looks like I’m going to have to get violent…real violent to rip it from their tongues. He sat his filthy ass on the chair. I grabbed the rope and tied him up, then added the tape to his wrists and ankles for extra effect.
I threw the duct tape at Jacob. He taped his prisoner's hands together in front of him and his ankles to the legs of the chair. When he was finished, I tossed some rope his way.
He wound it around the man’s bloated torso, binding him to the seat. There was no escape.
I turned my attention back to pansy.
