“Oh yeah, BFFs. Why else would we be here?” I asked.
“You seen him?”
“Yeah,” I said with a toothy smile. “He’s busy this morning. Sent us to help out.”
His eyes narrowed. “Rhino wouldn’t do that.”
Holy shit was this guy slow. I shrugged. “Was worth a shot. Fine. You got me. We’re not friends of that fucker.”
“What do you want?” he asked, wary now.
“Answers,” I told him. “Give them to us and we’ll let you go.”
“There’s nothing I can give you answers about.”
“Why’s that?” I asked. “You don’t even know what my questions are yet.”
“Because anything I say will just get me killed,” he replied, looking sullen.
“That can be arranged,” Bolo told him. He picked up one of the rickety chairs from the table.
Relay sighed.
Eyeing him, I frowned. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be thrilled to have another round of this.”
He sighed again. “It’s so fucking tired.”
“What is?” Kilo asked in disbelief.
“We tie him to a fucking chair. Cut him up a bit. Break a few bones-”
“You’re tired of torturing guys?” Strike asked, gaping at him like a fish.
“No. I’m tired of thatfuckingchair,” Relay growled.
We all looked at the chair Bolo was holding. “So what the fuck do you suggest?” Bolo asked him in amusement.
“I don’t fucking know,” Relay snapped. “I’m just sick to death of that fucking thing. It’s just so…predictable. Played out.”
Boscoe was looking back and forth between us, panic rising in his expression as we discussed his torture so nonchalantly. He was realizing not only that he wasn’t going to get out of this, but that he was indeed going to feel a lot of pain in the process.
“Tie him up,” I told the others. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait,” Drifter said, motioning to Boscoe. “What are we going to do about him?”
“He’s coming with us.” I shot Relay a grin as he scowled at me. “I have an idea.”
“You want us to drag this guy, bound, out of here in broad daylight?” Kilo asked. “Are you insane?”
“This apartment building look like it has cameras?” I asked, my tone skeptical. “Or residents that care?”
“No,” Bolo answered that.
“This is the area that people have been showing up dead on sidewalks for a couple years now. You really think anyone’s going to stop us from dragging this guy out of here?” I went on.
“Probably not,” Kilo said, as he was bent over and unlacing Boscoe’s shoes. He used the laces to tie the man’s hands behind his back.
I searched around and finally found a set of keys tossed in a basket on a small table near the couch. Going to the window, I looked down at the street and clicked the key fob. A car’s lights lit up. “Perfect.”
