He sniffed, wiping his nose and looking at the blood smeared across his hand. “He was driving, not me, stupid.”
Taking a deep breath, I rushed him, grabbing the back of his head, then slamming his face down on the wooden bench built into the wall. A loud pop was followed by a spray of blood over the bench. When he fell to the ground, I took a swift kick to his gut, then when he rolled, another to the side of his head.
He rolled further, trying to escape my reach. But I followed, kicking him into the back wall. I grabbed his arm, twisting it behind him until I heard a snap, and he wailed.
Red and Eagle laughed behind me as I pulled the armhigher, sending another loud cry from the piece of shit.
“C’mon, man,” I said in an even tone. “You said you weren’t a little bitch.”
He screamed again as I pulled at the broken arm. “He was driving, man!”
“Shut up,” the dark-haired one called out.
Shoving his face to the floor, I rested my knee on his neck, bent down with my knife, then grabbed his leather and cut it down the middle, patch and all. “You don’t deserve to wear colors, even if they’re the enemy, you little fucker. And if he was driving, that meant you planned to grab her, or worse.” Both were dead men walking, but I had a special hatred for the fucker who was going to put his hands on Sparrow.
I spit before standing up, then got one more kick in. Not taking my eyes off him, I asked, “Now why the fuck were you following my woman?”
Neither of them spoke up. Not surprising. But I had a feeling if either of them talked, it would be blondie. I paced around the small space for a few seconds, then headed toward him.
He got bold and stood, his leather falling off his shoulders. His momentum only helped me grab him by the shirt and leg, lifting him high before slamming him down. The building shook and Eagle said, “Don’t break the floor, man,” with a chuckle.
I didn’t laugh. I wanted answers. Shoving my knee to his back, I grabbed his short ponytail and lifted his head. “Tell me, motherfucker,” I said through clenched teeth.
His jaw was set tightly and he reached back, trying to grab me. I slammed his face back to the floor several times, then slammed my knife down through his hand, pinning it to the floor. He cried out, trying to grab the knife with his other hand.
With a swift move, I grabbed it, breaking the four fingers in an easy snap. His scream was piercing.
Knowing he wouldn’t be able to grab it now, I stood, walking to the workbench.
“Talk,” Red instructed one of them. My back was turned, so I could only assume it was the dark-haired one.
“I’m not saying shit.”
Grabbing some pliers, I turned. Blondie was trying to get the knife out using his thumb and palm. I walked over and with another quick twist, broke his thumb. He let out another wail.
“Turn around,” I told the dark-haired one.
Red grabbed his cut and lifted him, pushing him so he had to turn.
“His loyalty sucks. We’ve established that. Yours seems solid so far, butsomeoneis going to talk,” I said, squeezing the pliers.
“I’m dead anyway, man,” he told me casually.
“That’s true,” I answered. “But if you want a quick and easy death, I’d suggest talking. Otherwise, this may take a while. And I got nothing else to do.”
They both stayed silent, so I walked over to blondie and pressed my boot over the fingers of the impaled hand. Leaningdown, I gripped a fingernail with the tip of the pliers, then started to pull up.
He flailed the broken hand at me, but I just leaned away. I already had the nail in my grasp. His screams were pitiful and broken. Once I slowly worked that one off, I moved to the next.
Through his screams, a voice behind me said, “Alright, alright. You guys fucked us on the smash and grab with the rancher. We’d seen the whores before and knew their neighborhood. It was easy enough to do a cross-reference and find out where.”
Yanking the next nail up and off, I waited for the yell to subside, then I turned. “Okay, but why? They didn’t fuck up your job. We did.”
“We saw them take off with you. We assumed you were together.”
Stepping closer to him, I leaned down a little. “So you went to her place, looking for them to find us?”
He nodded. “But they weren’t home. We grabbed a few things for our guy, then took off. He found their cell numbers and tracked some messages. We got sent here to do intel on DEMC.”
