Aaron:
Tempting, but you need to work on your archery skills.
Me:
Planning to take me hunting there, Robin Hood?
Aaron:
HA…HA. I’m being serious, E. We all agreed that we would train each other on all of our specialties.
Me:
FINNEEE. But I want chicken nugs after!
Aaron:
Deal. See you tonight, babe.
I put my phone down. Accessing the glitching accounts, I tried to bypass some of the security walls to no avail. I sent Lennie my report and tried to ignore the pit I felt in my stomach telling me something bad was about to happen. Those files wouldn’t act that way if something wasn’t wrong. I just hoped my gut wasn’t right on that.
EIGHT
KADE
“Who ratted on Ricci’s shipment? I won’t ask you again.” I rested my hands on the two armrests that our captive was tied to. We needed to find out if Ricci was the one messing with our shipments now that one of his had been hit. But first, we needed to know who attacked Ricci.
“I swear, man, I have no idea. I’m just a transporter for him. No one tells me anything.” The gaunt-faced man cried, his little beady eyes filled with tears.
I sighed and scrubbed a hand down my face. I squeezed Evan’s shoulder for him to take over. We’d been at this for over 2 hours and I was exhausted.
An evil grin took over Evan’s face. The guy had too many loose screws in his head,but that was why I also needed him. He was notorious for getting information. Twirling a knife in his fingers, he stalked toward the bloody man in the chair and crouched down in front of him, becoming the man everyone fears as Machine.
“We are going to play a little game. It’s called I am going to cut things off until you talk. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you stay alive until you do.”
The scent of urine took up the tiny room in the basement of RSS. “Ah, dude, he just pissed himself,” Machine said, scrunching up his face in disgust.
I chuckled. “You are talking about cutting off appendages, but yet a little piss grosses you out,” I teased.
“Fuck you, Ghost,” Machine chided back as he stood up to walk around the chair.
“I think we will start with this little thing,” he said sweetly, pulling on the guy’s ear.
Just as he was about to slice the ear off, the man started to talk. “I don’t know who exactly did it, but I do know that that guy Moretti was in contact with someone in the Sinaloa Cartel. One of the other transporters heard him fighting with some guy before the shipment was attacked. I… I swear man… that’s all I know. Please just let me go. I won’t tell Ricci,” he pleaded.
I started to pace. “One last question.” I paused, giving the guy hope that I would let him go. “Who fucked with my gun shipment?” My voice was oddly calm compared to the storm brewing underneath my skin. If Moretti was dipping into different organizations' contraband, we could be looking at a full-out war if we weren’t careful.
The man seemed confused. “I don’t know anything about guns, man.”
“Wrong answer.” Before I could finish, Machine cut off the man’s ear. His screams echoed in the soundproof, cement room.
I got up in the man’s face. “Who the fuck messed with my guns,testa di cazzo!”
Machine grabbed his other ear. “You should probably answer him. Actually, don’t. I want to add this ear to my collection.”
The man started to scream and shook his head. Just asMachine began to cut, he yelled, “It was Ricci! He sent a couple of guys to intercept the shipment.”
Machine pouted when he had to stop the cut.
