X
Has the message been sent?
“Shit. Xan is pissed.” Their boss never checked in this soon. Charlie had personally upset him which wasn’t a smart thing to do. Ezra had seen him cut off a man’s finger over much smaller debts. Back when he was just starting out in his life working for the infamous Xander Coughlin.
“This is how you make someone beg to pay you back.”
The memory sent a chill down his spine. Ezra wasn’t some innocent guy. He did the finger-cutting and roughing up now, but that first glimpse into this world had left an impression.
Ryker shifted in his seat, his light eyes intent like a predator that had just spotted prey. “There he is.”
“Thank Christ,” Ezra muttered as he typed a message back. He pocketed his phone and they both exited the van.
Charlie hadn’t noticed them and was still making his way through the alley to his apartment. A bit stupid to walk so casually when you owed twenty grand to someone like Xan. Ezra had only owed him a stolen dime bag, and that got him a five-year sentence of working as a heavy.
Two more to go.
He offered Ryker a nod. His companion withdrew a knife and rushed their target, pushing him flush against the brick wall. The man yelped, but knew better than to scream.
The stench of rotting trash wafted through the air as Ezra approached. He flipped Charlie around and held his own knife to his throat.
“Oh, I didn’t know you live here,” Ezra mocked. “Have anything for us?”
Sweat beaded up on Charlie’s gaunt face. He reeked of cigarettes and stale alcohol, as if he’d spent the last few days drunk.
“N-n-no… but I’ll have it tomorrow.” He managed to get out.
Ezra ran the tip of the blade down his cheek, watching as he shuddered. Doing this used to bother him more, but he’d become numb to it.
“Always ‘tomorrow’.” Ryker parroted. “Who you gonna get twenty-five from on such short notice? Anyone we know?”
Xan did have a local rival, but the chances of this guy getting himself in even deeper were slim. Especially since Davidiuk would have taken a finger after the second reminder.
Charlie’s glossy eyes went wide. “Twenty-five? But I only borrowed twenty!”
Ezra leaned in, pressing the knife up under his jaw. “Interest is a bitch, ain’t it?”
Ryker grabbed Charlie’s hand and observed his fingers. “Which one do you think is best as a late fee, Ez?”
Their target tried to wrench his hand away with a pathetic squeak. “No! Don’t!”
The stink of piss mingled with the rot, burning the back of his throat. It took everything in him not to gag.
“I think the message has been received,” Ezra said.
He released their pathetic catch and watched him stumble away. Charlie kept his attention on them over his shoulder, just in case they changed their minds about letting him go.
Ryker slipped his blade back into its sheath and covered it with his coat. “Tag his car. Fucker is gonna bolt.”
Ezra pulled a tracker from his pocket and slapped it to the underside of Charlie’s beat-up sedan. The bottom was so rusted out, he wasn’t sure if it would hold.
“Wanna get a bite?” Ryker asked.
“I’m picking this time.”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “No Korean places open this late anyway.”
The man loved Asian food. It didn’t matter where it came from—he was going to eat it and drag Ezra along. It was fine, but he was more of a burgers and fries guy.
