“Good,” Meridian said. “Now, answer the question.”
Meridian’s gun appeared in his other hand like a magic trick. One second, it was empty, and the next, a custom Smith & Wesson was clutched in his grip, all black angles and a ghost-quiet suppressor.
He shoved it under Frank’s trembling chin, forcing his head back until he had no choice but to stare into his eyes.
“Is your silence worth your life?” he asked softly.
“H-he popped up at The Crown Room yesterday,” the kid blurted, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. “He was supposed to be locked up for good, then he just walks back onto the block as if nothing happened. King didn’t trust Scar hadn’t flipped, so he told him to leave Chicago.”
“Did he leave with anyone?”
“His old enforcer Pun, Drea, and Pun’s little brother, Smoke.” Frank did his best to swallow. “King already put a hit on him. If he stays in Chicago, he’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
Meridian wasn’t surprised Scar had been exiled.
“Where’d he go?” he asked.
“I-I don’t know,” Frank stuttered. “Find Drea. That’s his girl. That’s all I know, I swear.”
Meridian studied him for a heartbeat longer. He could feel the room’s attention on them, everyone waiting to see if Frank’s cooperation had earned him mercy.
Meridian released his jaw.
Relief flickered across the kid’s face, brief, foolish, and premature.
Meridian struck without warning and backhanded Frank across the right side of his face. A ringing crack that echoed like a whip snapping.
Frank hollered, stunned, his hand flying to his cheek.
Meridian grabbed a fistful of the boy’s shirt, yanking him upright, and delivered another harder slap.
“That’s for your stupidity and joining a gang, instead of being at home doing homework or studying or some shit.”
“But I told you everything I know,” he wailed, tears flowing like a broken faucet.
A third slap snapped Frank’s head sideways as brilliant red humiliation bloomed across his ivory, pimpled skin.
Meridian jerked him close, lowering his voice to a cold hiss, “If you keep playing the devil’s game, Frank…eventually…he’ll want his turn.”
The bar was silent.
“I’m sorry.” Frank cried louder.
Sirens blared in the distance.
“Time to go,” Corvo said.
He shoved the kid away in disgust.
“On your knees.”
Frank sobbed and collapsed to the floor, trembling, clutching his burning cheek.
Meridian leveled his glare on the ones in the room that were still alive.
“Do I have to repeat myself?” he growled.
One by one, every man and woman went down like puppets with cut strings.
