“Finally.” I grin. “Someone who gets me.”
I lean forward, gripping his wrist. Hard. He squirms, gasping through clenched teeth. “Last chance, Trav. Give me something useful.”
He crumbles fast.
“They—they have a shipment, just came in,” he blurts. “South docks. It’s raw steel.”
My blood hums.
“There we go.” I squeeze his wrist like I’m proud of him. “See? I like this. I think we can be friends.”
“There’s more.” His voice shakes. “There’s a board meeting coming up. They’re going to announce new equity partners. Jameson’s son—he—”
“Grant?” I cut in with a tilt of my head.
His eyes widen, shocked I know his name.
“Y-yes. He’s taking a larger role. He’s—they plan to marry him into—”
“Oh, I know.” I wave a hand. “Trust me. That part? I’m painfully up to date.”
He swallows. “I told you everything. Please, I-I have children—”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
His face blanches.
“And now,” I add cheerfully, “you get to be useful one more time.”
His relief lasts half a second.
Until I squeeze the pliers around his index finger.
He screams. The sound echoes beautifully through the warehouse. “Aw, don’t be dramatic,” I taunt, twisting. “We’re barely past the appetizer.”
“Please—please stop—”
“Buddy”—I chuckle—“you should be grateful I’m doing this by hand. Rafe wanted to use a drill.”
He screams again. This time much louder.
“Christ,” I groan, “I’m going to get a noise complaint. And this doesn’t have a neighbor for miles.”
I twist the pliers one more time.
His finger snaps off, blood spraying.
“Tsk. Tsk, I hate making a mess.” I turn to look over at Rafe. “Think that will come out?” I point at the puddle of blood now staining my shirt. Rafe shrugs.
Travis sobs, his head hanging down. I drop the broken digit on the floor and lean back, blowing out a breath.
“You know,” I muse aloud, “this really helped. I feel lighter. Refreshed. This is basically therapy.”
He gurgles something. Probably a request for death. It’s cute. Adorable. Maybe I’ll throw him a bone . . . or just remove another. That works too.
“Fine.” I sigh, standing. “I’ll speed it up. But only because I have a meeting in an hour and my shirt has blood on it.”
I pull the knife from the small of my back. He tries to shrink away.
