“I—I don’t know much,” he stammered, finally ready to let me see his fear. “He pays me for information. Names. Locations. Stuff only someone like me can access.”
It was something. But that shit wasn’t enough.
Snip.
The sound was awful as the shears crunched through the bone. The scream worse. There was something slightly unsettling about hearing a grown man cry out in pain like that. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, that was back in the Army, but it always felt unnatural.
Blood sprayed on me and Halloran, who thrashed in his chair, making an annoying screeching sound as the metal legs dragged against the concrete.
I didn’t flinch, instead I moved the shears to his index finger.
“Okay! Okay, fuck!” he sobbed, chest heaving through his pain. “What do you want to know?”
“Does Diego have the green light from Sombra Negra?”
Halloran laughed hysterically. “Fuck no. The big boss has no fucking clue what that psychopath is up to. If he did, he’d put a bullet in him.” He shook his head. “Right now he has no reason to question shit. Diego runs a tight ship with the business, cutting up the drugs and parceling it out to distributors and sellers. He makesel jefemoney and it’s enough. For now.”
I glanced at Slate and he gave a short nod. He’d look into Sombra Negra operations and see where we could apply pressure, making Diego’s life uncomfortable.
I took a step back and watched Halloran closely. He was a piece of shit, that wasn’t up for debate, but being a dirty cop wasn’t the same as being a conspirator. “What about the fifteen-year-old girl in Marietta?” I asked calmly. “You cover that up for him?”
Halloran went still. “How the fuck doyouknow about that?” For the first time since I stepped into The Cellar, helooked around the room, finally seeing the Steel Demons as something other than some Robin Hood jokes.
I smiled. “We’re not who you think we are.” And then I applied pressure to the shears. Just enough to remind him who the fuck was in charge. “Answer the fucking questions.”
“No!” He shouted, gasping in anticipation of the pain to come. “No, I swear. Fuck, I had nothing to do with that.”
I didn’t believe him. “But you do have an insurance policy?” I guessed. “Evidence it was him.”
Halloran hesitated and that was all the answer I needed.
This time when I applied pressure, the blade cut through his finger like butter.
“Fuck! Shit! Son of a fucking bitch!” he shouted, screaming so loud his face was red and his voice went hoarse.
“That’s for lying,” I told him, my voice calm and even. “Do you want to help us? If not, I’m happy to just kill you right now.”
He must’ve seen something in my eyes, because he broke. “I hate him,” he sobbed. “I fucking hate that piece of shit. He’s not human, he’s a monster.”
“You were happy to work for him,” I reminded him.
He nodded. “I got three ex-wives and he paid me well. Also helped me take down several of his rivals, which kept the brass happy. We worked well together but don’t mistake that for loyalty.”
“Then help yourself,” I told him. “I don’t have to kill you.”
He laughed weakly but I didn’t miss that spark of hope in his eyes. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true,” I assured him. “I’ll happily kill you for the way you tortured Macy, chasing her all over the south for that motherfucker. You fucked with her sense of safety and you did it knowing what that sick fuck had planned for her.” I shook my head. “I could kill you right now for that, but I don’t have to.” He watched me, searching for the lie.
“There ain’t no way out of this for me,” he whispered, his voice resolved. His shoulders slumped with defeat.
I shrugged. “True. But there’s a slow and painful death. There’s quick and easy. And then there’s facing your cop buddies with the truth of who you are. And what you did with that fucking badge.”
His face drained of color. “Not much in the way of options.”
I shrugged. It was all the same to me. “Slow and painful it is,” I said in a soft, easy voice. “I’m sure I can keep you alive for a few weeks if I really want to, and I do. I’ll make sure you feel every single day of pain that you made her live in fear.”
His eyes rounded as I drew the knife from its sheath. He never looked away, not when I pressed the blade against his wrist and sliced across. Not deep enough to kill.
